Voices of Dreams
by ctt
Summary: What if the generals never became evil? What if the senshi remembered everthing except who was their love? This is a look of the love between them and a new take in the series. (I'm new to this so pls review.)
1. Prologue: Dreams, Say Good-bye to Childh...

VOICES OF DREAMS  
  
What if the general never became evil? What if the silver millennium ended differently? What if they were reincarnated with the rest? What if Luna never made a mistake with creating Sailor Moon? What if they remembered nearly everything except for who were the loves of the senshi?  
  
This is my version of the start, characters, backgrounds and events will be a bit different and will focus mainly on the generals and the senshi, and their love for each other. Read, enjoy, and review.  
  
Please note that I have never watched Sailor Moon. It's just that I've been inspired by fan fictions, so any input or criticism is greatly appreciated. Thanks.  
  
PROLOGUE: DREAMS, SAY GOODBYE TO CHILDHOOD  
  
Light blue eyes painfully opened, squinting against the bright glare of the sun. It was tired yet it drank in greedily the sight of the endless blue sea and the crashing waves, tipped with foam. A smile flittered across the woman's pain-filled visage as the scene surrounded her, her ears perking at the sound of the waves and the clear cry of the gulls as the salty tang invaded her nostrils. But her smile immediately faded as a whimper of pain escaped her lips.  
  
"How long has it been?" she whispered to herself, her voice sounding odd with disuse while she craned her neck upward seeing only the bright streams of light, "four, maybe five hours."  
  
Her vision cleared as she focused on her wrists, lashed and bound tightly to a rope that kept her hanging. Rivulets of dried blood decorated her arms coupled with opened wounds and dirty torn white gloves. She sighed and bowed her head, wanting to shut those images away. But it was for naught as she found herself staring at her mud and blood splattered form, cropped with slashes, scrapes and bruises. Blood flowed from a vicious gnash at her thigh, bright red as it streamed to the saltwater that swirled around mid-calf. She felt the sting of the water, the ache of her shoulders, and the warm blood flowed away from her body, leaving her numb and cold against the now-seemingly icy water.  
  
She found it ironic that she was left to die by the sea of her homeworld that so beguiled her. She couldn't help but smile once again, now her lips cracking and bleeding but she didn't care any longer. Her eyes closed as she gave way to exhaustion and to sleep, dreaming.  
  
She dreamed of silver eyes and silver hair. A man who towered over her, and whose arms held her protectively with a hint of possessiveness. Her eyes were huge as she realized the waltz had led them to the gardens, all alone with her pressed near him. She tried to ease the distance between them and squash the sudden tingling in her veins.  
  
"Thank you for your company," she said, surprised on how breathless she sounded.  
  
She felt like a fool when she heard her voice, as a faint flush covered her cheeks. Much to her surprise, he simply smiled at her indulgently, before his hand rose to caress her slightly blushing cheek.  
  
"General," she spoke in astonishment, the blush quickly disappearing when a feeling of foreboding hummed in her veins.  
  
"Forgive me," he murmured as he suddenly stepped away from her, yet still held her hand, "I'm not usually so forward," he explained, his eyes solemn, "But I would like to ask for your consent."  
  
"What consent?" she asked, her voice soft as she stared at him in a multitude of emotions, all shuttered.  
  
"Your consent that I may court you, Princess," he answered, causing her eyes to widen immensely. A part of her knew this was coming yet she was hoping against hope that this would not happen. She couldn't help but notice his gentle eyes reflecting her, this blond haired girl-woman who looked so lost. She was confused, unsure of what to say as she was swept by the tides of emotions that she could not even name. It left her cold yet warm, regretful, breathless and oh so lost as she closed her eyes.  
  
She felt the dream fade as the cold cruel reality began to assail her. She couldn't open her eyes, but she knew she was surrounded by water, the tide having risen to cover her. She couldn't breathe nor move, too weak to do anything except accept the inevitable.  
  
'I'm sorry everyone,' she thought, 'I wasn't strong enough.'  
  
She wasn't sure, but she knew her tears seeped away from her closed lids, mingling with the waters that gave birth to her. At the back of her mind and soul, she felt the world wail at her loss and cry out in pain as it was ripped asunder. Her heart cried out in grief for the world, the people, and the man she loved for one last time before darkness overtook her.  
  
******  
  
Darkness. Light blue eyes snapped open, belonging to a young 7 year old girl with golden hair. She was very young, yet her eyes spoke otherwise, filled with tears that whispered of aged otherworldly wisdom. Her hand rose to touch her tear streaked cheeks, her eyes blank against the dark ceiling.  
  
"Why am I crying?" she whispered dazedly to herself, "I was just a dream, wasn't it?" she said in an effort to convince herself. But it was to no avail as she remembered the woman in her dream, beautiful and golden haired who seemed to tell her they were one and the same. She couldn't believe it, she knew she couldn't be that beautiful or that strong, not right now.  
  
"I'm young," she murmured to herself as her eyes began to close, "I have still so much to learn."  
  
But before she passed into sleep, the door opened, sending light streaming through the room. She rose from her bed squinting at the bright light.  
  
"Get up," she heard a woman's voice commanded. She made no motion of protest, knowing it was her mother. She calmly obeyed as she slipped into a pair of slippers and into her robe. She followed her mother outside the room, noting the clock that read 2 AM and the windows that showed nothing but night and stars. She wasn't bothered by it, nor was she bothered when they entered the room where a huge harp dominated the center. She said nothing, knowing very well what was wanted of her. She proceeded to sit in front of the instrument and began to play.  
  
A sad tune flowed through the air as her mother sat to watch and listen to her play. Minutes passed when the music suddenly stopped and she gave a small gasp of pain coupled by a slap, her head whipped sideways.  
  
"You aren't concentrating!" her mother spoke angrily, towering over her, "Again," she commanded as she turned to sit down.  
  
She said nothing while her cheek burned with the slap. Her hands once again caressed the strings and music flowed out as sad as ever, while her mind spoke unknowingly, 'Memories. It was my memories. I have to be strong.'  
  
******  
  
A young girl about 7 years old sobbed heavily in the arms of an old man who was rocking her comfortingly. But the girl was oblivious to it all, simply lost in her pain as she cried her heart out. She was lost in an awful scene that played in her mind over and over again. She clearly remembered begging her father not to leave her, not to hit her. She did everything, begged, pleaded, and promised but he did not listen. He hit her, dragged her all the way to the temple, and left her there sobbing without a backward glance.  
  
"There now," the old man murmured as he rocked her, his hands soothingly running his hands over her head again and again.  
  
"Grandpa," she spoke in a choked voice, "doesn't daddy love me?"  
  
The old man's eyes filled with tears as he hugged the sobbing girl tighter and said, "Don't worry Rei, I'm here for you."  
  
"Promise?" she asked, her voice breaking as she buried herself deeper in his comforting embrace.  
  
"Promise," he spoke tenderly, "Now go to sleep."  
  
She nodded, her face still buried in his robes as her sobs slowly quieted down and she fell into an exhausted slumber, dreaming.  
  
She dreamed of barren red sand and rock, stretching for endless miles and miles. It was a blisteringly hot day as the sun glared down upon her. She was so tired, the heat had long zapped her of whatever strength she had left as she laid bleeding, chained on the rest dust of Mars. Not even a whimper of pain escaped from her lips or a twitch of her fingers, for she had nothing more left except to face the inevitable.  
  
She found it ironic that she was left to die in the heat of her homeworld, the heat that she welcomed and gave her strength. She began feeling lightheaded, knowing she was about lost, her body losing the precious liquid that sent blood flowing through her veins. Her eyes slid to a close, forgetting everything, the burning heat, the heavy chains, the painful wounds, and the metallic smell of blood. All she could see was blond hair and blue eyes that looked at her with love. A man who crushed her to her body, tipping her chin up as he kissed her senseless. She remembered how he told him that she loved her, yet she would not believe him until he held her and would not let her go.  
  
"Let me go!" she cried out angrily, her violet eyes flashing.  
  
He did not listen to her, his arm simply tightening around her waist while the other tipped her chin up. Violet eyes met blue, and her eyes widened when she saw the purpose and sincerity behind his blue orbs. She felt her voice struck at her throat as he bent his head, their lips nearly touching.  
  
"I told you," he spoke softly, his breath brushing her lips, "I love you," before he took her lips with a kiss. Her eyes widened with shock before it closed with a sigh, she at last giving in to the inevitable.  
  
"Enya," she heard someone call her, slowly breaking her away from the memories, "Enya!" the voice spoke once again, this time with a sense of fear and grief.  
  
Her eyes opened ever so slowly and she found herself in a man's arms, the chains broken, and staring at a pair of beautiful blue eyes.  
  
"Ja. . ." she began, but he stopped her by placing a finger at her lips.  
  
"Don't talk," he murmured softly as he ran his hands gently at her face, "You're weak."  
  
She mustered her strength to give a reassuring smile when her eyes closed tightly at the excruciating pain she felt at her soul. She vaguely remembered him clutching her tight as he used his body to protect her from a wave of explosive heat. It rolled around them, licking them both, but she was beyond it. All that she could see was her world dying with a mass of explosion, people crying out in fear as air was stripped from the atmosphere, killing everyone. She felt tears seep out from her lids, flowing out into the heated air as her soul and heart ached. Ached for her princess, her friends, her people, and the man she loved who were all to die because she was not strong enough.  
  
******  
  
"I'm sorry Makoto," the woman murmured tearfully as she hugged the stunned child, "Your mommy and daddy won't be coming home anymore."  
  
"They're dead you mean," the child whispered softly in a hollowed voice, showing hidden strength and understanding, when tears began to fall.  
  
The woman did not answer as her tears fell as well, both woman and child hugging each other like it was their last lifeline. Minutes passed and their tears stopped when Makoto looked at her companion's tear clouded eyes and spoke softly, "Auntie, can you stay with me tonight."  
  
"Of course," her aunt replied with a sad smile, "Let's go to bed."  
  
She nodded as she numbly followed her aunt, everything seemingly like a daze. The next thing she knew, darkness surrounded her and she was lying at the bed with her aunt who had fallen asleep. But she couldn't sleep, her mind replaying the events before her parents left. She was in tears, desperately clutching her mother's skirt. She didn't want them to leave, a sixth sense telling her that it was a mistake. But it was to no avail as her father gently assured her, his voice still ringing in her mind.  
  
'Don't worry,' her father's voice echoed in her mind, gentle and kind, 'Mommy and daddy will only be gone for a few days. I'll promise will bring you a present, so don't cry. Be strong for us.'  
  
She remembered nodding, wanting to be strong in front of her parents. She watched as they boarded the plane with smiles and waves, the plane that would carry them to death.  
  
The scene played over and over her head, like a sick recording, never giving her respite. At last when dawn was about to break, she gave in it exhausted slumber and into dreams.  
  
She dreamed of blood and death, and a man with brown hair and a pair of chocolate brown eyes that stared at her with worry and love. She knew she was dying, blood gushing out from a vicious slash in her stomach as she laid in the muddy leaf littered ground of the forests of her world.  
  
"Neph. . ." she spoke, but was stopped when a finger rested on her lips.  
  
"Shh," the man spoke, his eyes loving yet sad for her, "Save your strength."  
  
"No," she spoke as she lovingly took his hand, "I know I'm dying. Leave me. Please save my people. Please stop. . ."  
  
"I can't leave you!" he spoke, his eyes flashing desperately.  
  
"I'm beyond hope," she spoke, tears filling her eyes as she locked into his sorrow filled ones, "Please."  
  
"But. . ."  
  
"Please, for me," she said pleadingly, interrupting him.  
  
Seconds passed, but it seemed an eternity for them when at last he sighed and nodded. She smiled, tears running down her cheeks when he bent down and kissed her with all the love he felt. She kissed him back, his taste mingling with her tears. They parted, he smiling down at her as he murmured, "I love you, Leda."  
  
"I know," she whispered back, "I love you too."  
  
He kissed her again for one last time, before he was gone, running to fulfill his promise. She watched as he disappeared, leaving her alone, alone except for the whisper of the tears. She heard their sorrowful dirge, singing their last good-byes to her as her. She smiled with gratitude while she shivered with cold, the blood slowly leaving her body. Her vision dimmed and her eyes slowly drifted to a close. Memories assailed her of their times together, his arm around her waist as they gazed at the stars. She remembered him whisper to her their secrets while he whisper his love as well. She remember laughing with him, a warm tingling feeling around her when she was with him. Faster and faster, the memories whirled by her and at last, she breathed her last.  
  
******  
  
It was morning when she opened her eyes, the sun shinning cheerfully as it peeped through the curtains. She felt a lump rise up her throat when she remembered yesterday's shocking news. Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.  
  
'I won't cry,' she thought determinedly, 'I promised daddy I won't cry. I have to be strong. . .just like her,' she vowed as she remembered her father and mother's smiling visage and oddly, the woman in her dreams. The strong woman who seemed to reach out to her as if they were one, and who waited bravely for the inevitable.  
  
******  
  
Sapphire blue eyes opened painfully, squinting against the harshly blowing winds and snow, obscuring everything. She was so cold, her body numb and frozen that she could not even feel the heavy chains that tied her to the post, nor feel the wounds that cropped along her body. She had long given up counting the time or struggling, the cold leaving her mind and body dull and sluggish. In a way, she was simply waiting for the inevitable, eventhough her heart and soul cried out against it.  
  
She found it ironic that she, the one who wielded ice as a weapon was left to die of cold. It was because of a sick joke that here she was tied and left to die in her world whose surface burned with the heat of the sun. She was left at the center of a magical blizzard which slowly buried her under a ton of snow.  
  
She was stiff and barely breathing, her body giving out. She cursed herself for her weakness, for being unable to make a difference. She failed. Failed her people, her friends, her princess, and most of all the man she loved.  
  
Her eyes slid to a close, as memories began to assail her. Memories of a man with coppery blond hair and mint green eyes. She remembered his lazy stance and his roguish grin as he held her close, causing a blush to rise within her cheeks. She remembered the chess games and of course, the ball. She remembered how close he held her, how she felt so protected and loved as he whirled her away from the dancing couples and into the balcony. She blushed when she realized they were all alone and he was bending down towards her, their noses touching.  
  
"Maia," he spoke, his eyes solemn reflecting this blue haired woman aglow with happiness and contentment, "Will you marry me?"  
  
Her eyes widened in surprise and happiness, her voice choked at her throat. She loved him yet she never thought about it, nor demanded it of him. She could only smile and nod as tears of happiness filled her eyes. A huge grin erupted on his face, before he crushed his lips to hers. They stood there locked in that kiss and embrace when she felt him slip a ring into her finger.  
  
Memories continue to assail her as she felt herself slowly lose consciousness, a smile in her features as darkness overtook her. But before she could slip into death, her soul cried out as she felt her world scream in pain and death. Her heart wept, when her body could no longer.  
  
******  
  
Dawn was breaking, when sapphire blue eyes opened. It belonged to a young blue haired child of 7, whose eyes showed intelligence and pain beyond that of an ordinary man. She was silent and unmoving, curled into a ball. Her eyes were distant as she remembered the dream and the woman. The woman who seemed like her, who suffered and cursed her weakness, yet to her seemed so strong. She cringed at the pain and grief she saw and felt, and wondered how the woman could stand it, how she could stand it.  
  
She wanted to be strong, remembering the woman's pain and her pain. She hugged herself tighter, her thoughts going back to last night's incident. She couldn't stand it, her parents screaming at each other, hurling accusations. She had never felt so helpless, so insignificant as she watched them through tear filled eyes. She remembered how it ended, her father walking away, vowing that he would take her away from her mother, while her mother vowing as well that he would not. Afterwards, everything was a blur. She only remembering her mother's heartbroken sobs and her father's retreating footsteps.  
  
'I have to be strong,' she thought, her mother's sobs echoing at her mind, 'I can't be a burden to mommy or to daddy any longer.' 


	2. Chapter 1: Wheels of Destiny

                Thank you for your reviews and support, it totally made my day and inspired me to finish this chapter quickly. This is quite long and I did try to add a touch of comedy, though mind you, I'm not good at it. It probably wasn't funny, but lighthearted at best. Anyway, enjoy and leave me your suggestions, contributions, criticisms, and thoughts. Anything's welcomed.

CHAPTER I: WHEELS OF DESTINY

                A young golden haired girl of 12 stood at the steps of an old gothic structure. She looked oddly out of place in the ancient building, yet she seemed an essential part of it as well. Perhaps it was her sober and almost Victorian style clothing with its skirt that reached mid-calf, tie, vest and ladies jacket all in deep dark blue, coupled with a crisp white blouse. But it was mostly because of her cool light blue eyes that belied an experience that should have not been found in such a young girl.

She stood there looking steadily, her briefcase in front of her, held by two hands in an almost distant manner. The wind whipped her partially unbound hair, held only by two plain dark blue combs that acted as barrettes. The church bells rang in a loud deep gong, signaling that it was 4 in the afternoon and that the school gates where to be opened. She was unperturbed as her eyes took in the laughing identically dressed girls that rushed out into the busy streets of London. She was used to it, how people were drawn as well as repelled to her, how they confided to her yet kept their distance in their untroubled times.

Suddenly, her eyes widened in shock as she took an unsteady step backward. Her head whipped sidewards and she found herself staring at a pair of slanted blue eyes. It belonged to a pure white cat with a hauntingly familiar mark in its forehead. She took a cautious step forward, her right hand reaching out to it which continued to stare at her unmovingly. 

"Artemis," she breathed out softly as she set herself down on the ground, her hand beckoning it to her. She watched as the white creature padded happily towards her, and a smile hovered at her lips as she drew it into her arms. It purred contentedly as she cradled it close and stood up, her head still bent as she watched it. She was so intent in her observations that she did not see nor hear the car pulling besides the steps she stood at, nor the uniformed man that stepped out.

"Miss Aino," the man spoke softly, jostling her out of her thoughts. 

She looked up and gave a slight smile, greeting him, "Roberts," before she bent down to take her case. He beat her to it, causing her to smile a bit more in gratitude, and she set down towards the waiting car.

"Uh. . .Miss Aino?" he spoke out cautiously as he followed her.

"Yes?" she replied as she turned around to look at him with a curious expression in her face.

"You're keeping that stray?" he asked, his voice and features incredulous.

She nodded and continued towards the car, causing the man to rush to catch up with her. She shifted the cat in her arms, freeing one of her arms so she could open the door. Again, she was beaten to it as gloved hands grasped the handle and swung it open. She looked up, faint amusement lit up her features as she was Roberts breathing in slight exertion.

"Thank you," she spoke with well ingrained politeness, and entered the backseat.

Instead of closing the door, he stared at her and the cat, and ventured out once again, "Miss Aino, your mother will not like this, nor will your father, the Ambassador."

"I know," she replied calmly, "Don't worry."

"But. . ."

"Don't worry," she interrupted him, her voice brooked no opposition.

He sighed and shut the door, leaving her once again in her thoughts. She was lost in her thoughts that she did not realize the car was moving onwards to the busy streets. Not that she cared as she mussed about the state of affairs in her life. She couldn't help but be disgusted, on where she was now and of her parents. It was laughable to her that she had to come and go to school in a chauffeured car, just because she was the Japanese Ambassador's daughter. It was even laughable that here she was studying at a prestigious all girls Anglican school that only boasted of a long line of aristocratic women as their alumni. It wasn't that her parents cared, this was simply all about her mother's pride and her father's distance. In fact, what was expected of her by her mother was to be a beautiful, obedient daughter wherein they could display, and who she could marry off to further her ambitions with her as a useless but pretty trophy wife. It went to such an extent that her life revolved around perfecting in playing the harp with her mother sometimes walking her up at midnight so she could play until dawn, to lessons in creating the perfect ikebana, to perfect manners and etiquette, to learning how to make polite but useless conversations, dancing the waltz, and of course, making perfectly useless but beautiful embroidery. It drove her to the wall, yet there was nothing she could do with it. Her father perhaps cared, with his stories and lessons, but he always wasn't there. She more often than not remembered his distant figure.

She sighed, her thoughts breaking when the cat in her lap purred and snuggled closer. A smile danced on her lips as she looked at it. Just by looking at it, she felt her heart lighten and her mind amending that being in London wasn't so bad compared to Tokyo. She had lived here for 5 years, since she was 7, and she understood that her parent's busy schedule gave her a bit more freedom. In fact one of the perks right now is that her midnight harp playing was pushed to once a week, and that she was able to learn fencing and swimming. She remembered why she wanted to learn fencing. Remembered her fascination with the clashing of the blades and the strategies needed to win. The fascination still clung when she learned it and mastered it, although a part of her thought the sport was too dull, too controlled. As for swimming, it seemed that she felt she needed it and was entranced by the swirling foam that the waters seem to make as it moves. It seemed it was a part of her, calling out to her.

_'Duty.__ . .Destiny. . .Pact,' something whispered in her mind, jostling her out of her thoughts. She blinked, and she realized she was at home and the door was opened, waiting for her to alight. She shook her head and stepped out. She walked towards her house, her steps soft but steady yet she seemed to move reluctantly. She felt a twinge of nervousness, knowing how her mother's temper might erupted at the sight of the cat. But she knew she could not leave the creature._

_'Not Artemis,' she thought to herself as hazy images assailed her, all about this cat and a man with silver hair and feline blue eyes. They were one and the same, the ones that took care of her, guarded and loved her so well like a father. _

"MINAKO! What on earth is that?!" her mother's loud and angry voice echoed through the room as she stepped in the house.

"I was hoping to keep it," she answered as she softly shut the door and faced her mother's angry visage.

"A stray!!" her mother screeched, "Do you know how it would look like to my friends?!"

"Nobody would know," she answered steadily, while her heart begged and pleaded inwardly, "He does look like a white Siamese cat."

Her mother glowered at her, before raking her eyes contemptuously at the cat in her arms. After an eternity of silence, her mother spoke huffily, "Fine!" as she turned her heel, "Keep it out from sight. Clean yourself up and meet me at the parlor. I'm going to see how you serve tea. And bring your embroidery!"

She nodded as she tried not to rush up the stairs, a small smile at her lips.

******

                A young priestess of 12, dressed in white and red robes, stood at the temple steps. She was sweeping, her face flush with exertion while two crows perched on each shoulder, forming a decidedly odd picture. She seemed not to mind it, intent on her work as the broom rose and raked through the ground in rhythmic tune. Footsteps then intruded on her work, causing her to look up while sending the crows flying away from their perch. A smile lit her features when she saw who it was, a young man of 15 with jet black hair and intense blue eyes.

                "Oniichan!" she cried out happily, "How was school?"

                "Fine imouto," he replied back, a smile lighting up his exhausted features, "How about you?" he asked and immediately regretted his words when he saw her mood changed dramatically. He saw pain flash through her violet eyes, before she could lower them and his heart went out for her. Drawing her into a hug, he spoke, "I'm sorry Rei. Was it really bad?"

                She said nothing, relishing for a brief moment in the comfort he exuded. She stepped out of his arms, remembering her determination to be strong and to never be vulnerable.

                "I'm fine, oniichan," she spoke with forced cheeriness with an equally forced smile as pain lingered in her mind about the nasty words stabbed at her back.

                He looked at her calmly and spoke, "You don't have to hide it, Rei," his voice gentle, "We're family remember? I'll be there."

                Her eyes softened and a genuine smile of gratitude shone in her face as she murmured, "Thank you."

                He smiled back at her, sharing a moment of companionable silence. Then, her smile brightened as she grabbed his hand and spoke excitably, "Let's have tea!" dragging him inside, while he tried valiantly not to trip at his feet, "Since you're early today," she added hastily, before releasing his hand.

                He smiled indulgently, watching how her black hair caught the sunlight and gave out violet highlights. His smile turned to a grin as he studied his foster sister, knowing she will grow up to be a beauty and he'll have to beat suitors out of the door. 

                "I'm home!" he called out as he stepped into the temple grounds while Rei busied herself. An old man stepped out of one of the structures, a welcoming smile in his weathered features and a pretty woman at his arm. He couldn't help but sigh, knowing what an odd household he lived in yet loving every minute of it.

                "Mamoru," the old man spoke in slight surprise, "you're home early."

                "Yes, grandpa," he replied with a smile and a shrug, "Not much schoolwork today."

                "Ah," was the reply before a mischievous twinkle appeared in his wrinkled eyes, "And were is my granddaughter?"

                "Fixing tea," he answered automatically, a part of him wondering what the old man was up to as he saw that familiar and not so comforting look in his eye, "Would you and your guest like to join us?"

                "No," his surrogate grandfather spoke, the familiar gleam brightening, "We have something to do. Just tell my granddaughter not to BURN down the temple," his voice becoming exaggeratedly louder and slightly singsong.

                "I heard THAT!" Rei's voice rang from inside the temple.

                "WHY?" their grandfather bellowed out while Mamoru shook in head in an approximation of a 'give me strength' plea and the woman giggled at the antics, "Is it wrong to speak the TRUTH?"

                "What do you mean TRUTH?!" Rei demanded as she huffily stepped out into the open.

                The old man ignored her, turning to address the amused woman in his arm, saying, "I tell you my dear. If you're ever going to asked the gods for a child, pray for one that doesn't have a temper like my granddaughter. See how I suffer?" his voice taking a exaggerated sigh at the last line.

                "I DO NOT!" Rei bellowed out angrily, before clamping her hands over her mouth, an embarrassed blush on her cheeks. They couldn't help but laugh at the comical expression on her face, her two hands clamped over her mouth while her eyes were wide in her red face. 

                "Stop it!" she whined slightly and angrily.

                "Let's go my dear," the old man spoke with a fond smile at the two youngsters with varying expressions, "Before my granddaughter blows up."

                "GRANDPA!" she cried out, scowling while the old man simply laughed and walked away, the woman still at his arm. She continued scowling, twin fires in her violet eyes as she stared at her grandfather's retreating back.

                "Now now, Rei," Mamoru's teasing voice broke through her stare, "You don't want grandpa to melt just because of your laser stare."

                "Oniichan," she growled before whacking him at the arm, "Be careful, I might pour tea all over your hand."

                "You should respect your elders imouto," he chided her teasingly as they entered the tea room, "Anyway, how am I suppose to go to work if you do that to me?"

                She humped as they sat down and retorted, "Well at least you'll be able to spend more time at the temple."

                A smile twitched  his lips and he rose an eyebrow, seemingly thoughtful. Slanting a glance towards her, he grabbed on of the rice balls and spoke, "Sounds good! It would be nice just sitting here and being served like a king while I watch you sweat and work," as he took a bite.

                He watched as she stared at him flabbergasted, then humped haughtily and muttered, "I shouldn't have agreed with grandpa that I needed a foster brother."

                When he heard her speak, something tugged into his mind as he remembered his dreams. The dreams that have haunted him for years until he came to this temple when he was 10. Now, these dreams were coming to haunt him again, more vivid than ever. He remembered this silver haired princess with innocent silvery blue eyes. How those eyes stared at him with love and tears as she pleaded him to help her.

                "Oniichan," a concerned and frightened voice broke his thoughts. He look up and found himself staring at the huge eyes of his little sister as she spoke once again, "Are you all right? I'm really sorry. . ."

                "I'm fine," he spoke interrupting her as he gave her a reassuring smile, "It wasn't your fault. I was just tired."

                She searched his face to see if her was lying and apparently satisfied, she calmed down a bit. She stared at him for a minute and observed, "It's those dreams again, isn't it?" her voice soft.

                "Yes," came his weary reply, knowing it was impossible to hide anything from her.

                Her gaze sharpened with concern as she put her hand over his for comfort. Cautiously, she suggested, "I could do a fire reading for you?"

                Mamoru's eyes snapped up and he spoke, "Oh no! You're not," his voice firm. She opened her mouth to protest, but he beat her to it, "You're just going to get exhausted. It's not good for you."

                "But. . ." she tried again but she was interrupted.

                "No imouto," he spoke firmly, "listen to your elders."

                "But. . ." she tried again once again, this time getting a word out but not much.

                "Don't be stubborn," he cut through, a scowl on his face, "Don't do it," he ordered while his face softened, "Okay?"

                She nodded defeatedly and he smiled fondly at her lowered head. Then his eye caught the time and he nearly groaned out loud. He hurriedly stood up, causing Rei look at him curiously as he hastily explained, "I'm going to be late for work. See you at dinner," and he was out rushing.

                "Okay!" she cried out after his retreating form. She watched as he slammed the doors shut and disappeared. She sighed, her mind worried about her brother. Her eyes narrowed in determination, her mind asking for forgiveness for she had come to a decision to read the fire. She knew her brother wouldn't be happy, nor her grandfather, but she was too worried to care.

                _'All right,' she thought to herself and was suppose to leave when she saw the state of the room. Wryly, she amended, _'Well, I guess after fixing this place first.'__

******

                A neat blue car drove through the streets of Juuban, Tokyo, a woman and a 12 year old girl inside. The woman was chatting animatedly in an attempt to draw the pensive girl out of her shell, but it was to no avail. The woman sighed, throwing a sympathetic glance at the girl dressed in all black, seated to her left. She couldn't blame the girl, her parents getting killed just at the tender age of 7 and now, her aunt was dead, all because of a plane accident. If she remembered the file correctly, the girl did not have a picture perfect childhood. With an aunt that was an investigative journalist, she always had to move from one place to another, never making friends. And worse of all, she was usually left alone at home for hours till end, forcing the child to grow up quickly. In fact, when she looked at the child's emerald eyes, she couldn't help but shudder at the sight of those knowing orbs that no child was suppose to have yet. She sighed once again as she saw the well manicured lawns roll by. She slowed the car down, stopping at a neatly kept white house.

                "Where here Makoto," she said to the child as she unlocked the doors and stepped out. She never received an answer, nor did she expect one for the silence in the ride convinced her it was no use.

                _'Perhaps this family will help her,' she thought to herself, hoped and prayed. She walked smartly across the well tended garden, Makoto silently following her. She couldn't help but shudder a bit, noting the practically noiseless way the girl moved._

_                'Like a sleek jungle cat,' her mind observed, _'A predator, a hunter. . . a protector.'__

_                She shook her head, annoyed by the flights of fancy within her mind. She ordered herself to stop and rang the bell. Seconds later, the door opened to reveal a smiling motherly woman._

                "You must be from the social center," the woman greeted cheerily, "Please," she said as she stepped back to let them enter, "come in."

                "Thank you," she smiled as she stepped in, "I'm Ikusawa Yukino and this is Kino Makoto," motioning to the silent girl besides her.

                "I'm Tsukino Ikuko," the woman spoke with a smile before her gaze turned to the silent girl. She bent down a bit, not much because of Makoto's unusual height and spoke, "Hello Makoto. How are you?" her manner coaxing and kind.

                "Fine, Mrs. Tsukino " Makoto answered softly, her features softening ever so slightly from her blank mask.

                Ikuko spoke, a smile crinkling the corner of her eyes, "Why don't you call me Auntie instead?"

                "Aun—tie," she spoke cautiously, as if testing the word in her mouth. Both women watched the girl expectantly, but the moment was shattered when a blond whirlwind broke through the room and the silence within it. The three looked up and found themselves looking at a 12 year old blond girl whose clear blue eyes where practically oozing with excitement.

                "Is she my new sister, mommy?" the girl practically squealed, drawing various reactions. Ikuko shook her head in amusement, a fond yet weary smile on her lips. Yukino, on the other hand, simply stared in surprised, while Makoto broke into a cautious smile. It wasn't bright or huge, but it was a smile nonetheless. 

                "I'm Usagi," the girl said, sticking out her hand to Makoto, "You're my new sister right?"

                Makoto stared at her in surprise, before taking the blonde's outstretched hand and stammered, "Y-yes," her voice a mixture of shyness and fondness.

                "Come on," Usagi spoke as she proceeded to drag Makoto inside the house who had a bemused and surprised expression on her face, "I'm having chocolate cake in the kitchen. You like chocolate, don't you? I mean everyone loves chocolate, right?" she continued babbling on as they disappeared into the house, her voice still echoing towards the two adults.

                "Well," Yukino spoke, once she got out of her stupor, "you're daughter's quite a character, Mrs. Tsukino."

                   "I know," was the wryly reply as the other woman shook her head and chuckled. Soon, she was joined by Yukino as their minds relieved that scene with that little bundle of energy.

******

                A 12 year old girl with blue hair walked briskly across the streets and sidewalks. She never stopped nor looked back, all intent on going home as she ignored the laughter and the snatches of conversation that waived through the air. She was used to this, the sense of loneliness and silence that greeted her wherever she goes. It started when she was very young, having a foreign father that quickly made her an outsider in xenophobic Japan. Then, there was her parents who were too busy with their careers to truly be with her. She knew they loved her, giving her presents most of the time to make it up for their absence, but it wasn't enough. Then came the fateful day of the divorce and the custody battle, both her mom and dad seeing each other as not good enough for her. Her mother won custody over her and after which, she never saw her father again. Of course presents still came, watercolors, oils, and sketches her father made, coupled with trinkets to the places he visited, and letters. But that was all, no picture of him or a phone call. She wasn't sure what he looked and sounded like, now. Of her mother, she rarely saw her, always a emergency here, a conference there, a patient here and there. Most of the time, she found herself alone at their condominium with its four walls.

                She wanted to be loved. But it seemed fate was against it and her.

_'Was it the ice in my veins that banned me from ever knowing it?' she thought bitterly, the lament giving an odd feeling of deja vu,_ 'Is it because I dreamed of snow and death that I am beyond it?'__

No answer was given. Not that she expected it, knowing her pleas, pleas that should not touch one so young as her, fell to deaf ears. She sighed, as the red light blared in front of her, telling her to stop. She stood there, waiting as the cars zoomed by. Suddenly, she heard a pitiful meow besides her, causing her head to whip to the side. She found herself staring at a black cat with a hauntingly familiar mark in its forehead. Images assailed her. Images of lessons and lectures with friends from a woman with flowing black hair and an odd hairstyle. The woman seemed to stare at her with eyes like the cat, telling her they were one and the same. She bent down and took it in her arms, cuddling it close. She felt it snuggle in her arms as it purred contentedly. She smiled, knowing that she wasn't alone any longer.

"Luna," she murmured, calling the cat in her arms.

******

                Violet eyes peeked out of the sliding doors, searching for the familiar forms of the temple's inhabitants. No one was in sight, causing a sigh of relief to escape through the paper thin doors. It opened further and Rei cautiously stepped out, as if she was going to commit a crime. Her gaze swept over the place once again before she was fully satisfied that she was all alone. Swiftly, she passed through the halls, intent on getting to the sacred fire room. She knew the consequences if she was caught, but something compelled her to throw caution with the winds. She reached her destination. Wasting no time, she slipped inside and immediately shut the door. Inside, she immediately felt heat. A warm tingling feeling that seemed to welcome her. She turned around, the roaring flame greeting her as it beckoned her closer. She took an unconscious step forward, her hand reaching out towards the blaze. Her eyes turned blank and dull, her body moving by an unseen force, while her mind was long gone in the land of vision. 

                She saw red. Red heat, red flame, red dust, and red blood coated her vision. She was standing on an ancient ring, dressed in noting but a robe of death. A robe the color of the deepest black, tied and lined with crimson as it clung to every curve her body. She breathed hard as sweat dribbled down her chin, her eyes intent on the man in front of her. A man huge, bronzed, and tall like a raging bull. She saw no one but him. She saw nothing but him, not even the three red robed and hooded priests of Mars that watched over them with their black featureless masks. They were intent on one another, knowing that they had to win.

_'There is no room for mercy,' she thought_, 'No room for hesitation.'__

They circled each other warily, whilst her boot scrapped the ground as she waited and plotted. 

                Stillness, then silence. The wind neither whipped nor whisper, nothing moved nor spoke, except for the flames dancing as it watched over them. It was broken. A yell rang through the air. They charged at one another, swords flashing through the air as they swung it towards a death stroke.

                _'I will not fail.'_

_                Three women stood besides her, each beautiful, each strong, and each as cold and weary. One was like light, sharp and quick, and the swirling waters of the sea, so calm and yet so deadly. Another stood proud and strong, steady as the soils of the land and as changeable as the sky and life. Last was like water, soft and gentle yet freezing and distorting. In front of them stood a queen. A woman seemingly made of silver and diamonds, cold, imperious, and biting. She towered over them, clutching a child of silver and crystals, sparkling, light, and tinkling. _

                _'Duty.__ . .Destiny. . .Pact.'_

_                Her dull blank orbs widened as she stood there with an arm outstretched in a trance. She was so near the fire, the flames touching and teasing her fingers. She was oblivious to it all, trapped in the vision. Then her eyes closed and her slim form crumpled to the ground, her mouth whispering words that mean nothing. _

******

                 A white cat lay asleep upon a white couch, curled up into ball. It peeked an eye open when the door opened, allowing a tight-lip Minako to enter. It watched her curiously with a hint of concern, as she shut down door silently and turned to face him, pressed at the door. Silence reigned between them, as two blue eyes stared and warred at each other, daring the other to start. It seemed like a eternity has passed, though it was truly only a few seconds, when Minako looked away. She sighed and pushed herself off the door, turning away from the creature.

                "I was surprised to see you, Artemis," she spoke conversationally, addressing the creature, "I never thought that you would find me."

                The cat never answered, simply following her movements until she disappeared at another door.

                "Have you become mute?" her voice waived through the room, muffled by the semi-closed door and the sound of running water.

                He didn't answer her nor show any signs of reaction as he continued to watched the door she disappeared into. The sound of water stopped and the door opened. She stepped out, once more meeting the cat's blue gaze. She arch a blond eyebrow up and spoke in slight exasperation, "Talk. No one will hear you."

                It remained resolutely silent, much to her chagrin. She shook her head in annoyance and dryly observed, "Perhaps I've been mistaken. . .but I think NOT," she spoke, emphasizing the word 'not' as her eyes bore into the cat's, "I don't have time for your games, Artemis," her voice turning cold.

                "True," he conceded, at last opening his mouth to speak and meet her stony stare head on, "We have little time left."

                "Glad to have you back," she spoke dryly.

                He looked at her curiously, standing up to stretch as he observed, "Do I detect a note of bitterness in your voice?"

                She didn't answer as she continued to stare at him with an unreadable expression in her face. He sighed, a part of him understood her predicament so well. He studied her, noting how young she looked, and spoke, "Dione. . .No," he shook his head, a tiny sad smile in his face, "You go by the name Minako now. . ." his voice laden with memories, "I'm sorry I wasn't here for you. Your life wasn't that easy here," a pause, "But I'm here now, and your needed. You can make a difference, Mi. . ."

                His voice trailed off, interrupted by a short bark of laughter. He winced, knowing very well what it meant. Minako looked at him, a disappointed look in her eyes, as she spoke, "Lying doesn't become you, Artemis. I thought you knew me better than that," her eyes softened a bit, "I'm not a child."

                "So it seems. I keep forgetting that," he murmured softly as he jumped down the couch and padded towards her. He looked up at her and spoke, "Are you mad at me?"

                "I'm not sure," she answered as she bent down to pick him up, "I'm not sure whether to be mad at you for saying that you'll always protect me but you never did, or at myself for believing you, or at fate for causing it all."

                He nodded in understanding, then blinked as he realized he was inside the bathroom. A faint suspicion entered his mind when he saw the sink filled with water and felt her grip tighten around him.

                "Uh. . .Minako," he ventured out cautiously, "Why are we in here?"

                "For your bath," was her bland answer. It sent him to a panic as he struggled to get out of her grip, but she refused to release him.

                "Artemis," she spoke sternly, "stop struggling." 

                "WHY?!" he cried out.

"You're dirty," was her answer as she valiantly tried to hold him down, "You've already ruined my couch."

"I did NOT!" he howled.

"Quiet!" she hissed, her eyebrows twitching as she watched the struggling cat. She was sorely tempted to strangle him, just to shut him up, but she didn't. She was tempted, but not yet desperate.

                He didn't listen to her, struggling as he babbled out, "Dione!" forgetting that it wasn't her name any longer in his panic, "I don't want to take a BATH! Cats DON'T take baths!"

                She rolled her eyes in exasperation, at the end of her tether, and spoke, "Stop it! Unless you want to eat dry cat food for the rest of your life."

                Her threat entered his panic stricken mind, causing him to go limp as the word 'blackmail' rang in his head.

                "You wouldn't!" he choked as he stared at her, his features looking as if it was going to fall apart. A slight smirk tugged her lips as she nodded, causing his face to look more pathetic than it really was before. He groaned out loud, feeling so miserable and powerless as he drew nearer to the water filled sink.

                "Wait!" he cried out, curling his tail so it wouldn't get wet, "Please, let me go in the water by myself. For DIGNITY!" his voice and features, begging and cajoling.

                Her eyebrows once again arched up in irritation, but she acquiescenced. Artemis sighed with relief as he was set down at the counter, cautiously walking towards the water. He felt her eyes bore into his back with patience and warning as he ever so slowly drew near. He reached the edge of the pool, gulping audibly as he stared at it. Lifting a paw up, he reached for the water but drew back sharply as if stung. 

                "Good grief!" he heard her exclaim and before he knew it, he was pushed into the water. He came up spluttering. Before he could get a word out, thick soapy liquid was poured over his head sending his nose twitching with its rosy scent. 

                "Minako!" he cried out as she began rubbing his fur briskly, forming suds, "You. . ."

                He never got another word out as she cut through, "Stop complaining! You've wasted enough time."

                "Why rose?!" he persisted in a whining tone.

                "It's the only thing left," she answered curtly.

                He snorted in disbelief, retorting, "You're enjoying this!" his voice accusing.

                She stopped her vigorous rubbing, staring at him with annoyance before it faded to turn into a sly smile. Almost purring, she spoke, "Now that you've mentioned it. I am. Maybe I'll do this once a week, especially when a certain CAT irritates me," biting each word like a punishment.

                He groaned out loud, sinking deeper into that water as his mind wailed, _'This can't be happening!' while a younger part of him wailed,_ 'Mommy!'__

****** 

                She stared at the little note in her hand. A sigh escaping her lips as the words ran, 'I won't be coming home for dinner Ami.' She expected it, yet she couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. Her eyes scanned the place, noting on the darkening sky and the black cat that had made itself at home at the corner with its newly brought dish. A smile danced at her lips as she looked at the sleeping creature. Whenever she looked at it, she couldn't help but feel safe, warm and loved. Just a picture of it, seemed to tell her that there were friends waiting for her and destiny.

                _'Destiny,' the word echoed in her mind, causing her to frown as an unexplainable sadness weighted upon her at the mere mention of the word. She felt her jaw tighten as emotions coursed through, emotions that she could not understand. She shook her head, realizing she needed to relax. She rushed to her room, quickly changing to a swimsuit. Dashing out of the condominium, bags and keys at hand, she called out, "I'll be upstairs swimming, Luna," her mind too occupied to note the strangeness of the situation or the understanding gleam in the cat's eye._

                She rushed through the halls and into the elevator, not caring how odd or out of character she looked. She needed to calm herself, and she knew the only solution was the water. Water had always beguiled her ever since she was young. Her first memories of it were always its call, it whispering secrets to her ear as it surrounded her, secrets that said they were one an the same. Chimes broke her thoughts as the door opened. She stepped out, the wonderful sight of the pool greeting her, and a smile broke through her face. The bag and keys were laid at the table, the robe taken off, as she immediately dived into the cool waters. 

She felt her heart easing out, the waters singing her a welcome as all the pain and confusion washed away. It was only the water that was capable of easing her soul, a feat that not even her studies or gymnastics could accomplish. It was no surprise then that she wanted to learn swimming or that she excelled in it though refusing to compete. What was surprising was that one day, she simply insisted on learning gymnastics. She didn't know why, perhaps she was entranced by the way bodies twisted and moved in the air, as if it was water, but what she was sure of is that she felt she needed it. So she learned and was good at it, as if she knew how to do it all along. Her teacher insisted that she compete, but she refused, saying she simply wanted to explore, to perfect, and to push its limits. 

But now, nothing mattered to her except the water. The water that surrounded her and comforted her. All that she was now was the water. 

******

                Makoto smiled as she looked at the sleeping blond bundle in the room. It was very early, around 8 in the evening, but her irrepressible foster sister was sound asleep. She murmured a soft good night and silently closed the door. She stealthily walked towards her room, her mind relieving the enjoyable dinner. It was fun, helping prepare and cook the meal with her foster mother as Usagi jumped up and down with excitement. She remembered the antics and the conversations during the meal, the tongue wars between the elder sister and the younger brother, and the laughter. She couldn't help but be amazed, having never meet a person as energetic, as excitable, and as friendly as her. 

Chuckling, she remembered her reaction when they found out they were of the same age. She looked delighted yet horrified at the same time as she wailed, "NO FAIR! Why is everyone taller than ME?!"

Her reaction surprised her, causing her to laugh out loud. At that moment, she realized she had never laughed for such a long long time. It felt good while she valiantly tried to control her giggles at the sight of Usagi's pouting visage. She remembered apologizing as Usagi imperiously decreed that she would only forgive her if she baked her chocolate chip cookies. She promised, watching as her sister brightened immediately, then apologized shyly. She was surprised and heartened by it, as she stared at those clear crystal blue eyes. Protectiveness welled along her throat as she taught of the blue eyed girl and her new family, and she knew she would let no one harm them.

_'I will protect you, Princess,' the back of her mind whispered, unknown to everyone, even to her._

******

                It was late when Mamoru got back at the temple. He was tried and hungry as he stepped inside, yet all was banished when the back of his neck prickled. He saw the place ablaze with light, yet it did not ease his fears. His instincts screamed that there was something wrong as he broke into a head run, calling out loud, "REI! GRANDPA!"

                "Mamoru!" a voice broke through his rising panic as he saw his grandfather rush to him. Unfortunately, when he saw his grandfather's features a feeling of dread lumped his throat. Breathless and fear stricken, the old man spoke, "Rei's having a seizure!"

_                "What?!" he cried out, valiantly trying to keep his head and his voice calm, "Where?!"_

                "The sacred fire room!" the old man cried out, wringing his hands.

                "Oh my God!" he exclaimed as his feet flew towards the place, his grandfather close behind him. He ran as if there was no tomorrow, the pounding in his head intensifying, as worse case scenarios came unbidden in his mind. He reached the place in record time, slamming the doors open in fear and in urgency. What he saw nearly broke his heart as he rushed to his little sister's crumpled form. She was at the ground, her body shaking at fits and starts like a jerking puppet. He gathered her in his arms as she continued to shake, his closed lids fluttering as her already death pale lips muttered strange words.

                "Hold yourself together imouto!" he cried out as he drew her hear, trying to give her icy body some warmth.

                She seemed not to hear him, still lost when their grandfather entered, breathless and gasping, "I've called the hospital."

                He nodded, yet his eyes were all on his little sister in his arms. He felt his heart ready to break at her condition and at his powerlessness. Suddenly, her eyes opened to reveal unseeing orbs. Her irises dilating and constricting as her hand reached out for the sky with her struggling in his arms.

                "I see it," she gasped out in a distant voice, "I see it!"

                He held her struggling form near him as she tried to calm her down. Calling out her name again and again, hoping it would reach her and calm her down. Then almost as sudden as her struggles, her eyes close and she fell limp in his arms.

******

*Thank you again for the reviews. I'm sorry if not much happened here, but be assured the next chapter will have more action, plus the generals will begin to make their appearance. Well. . .their alter egos that is. A warning, this story will be quite different from the series, especially about the views on the silver millennium. Actually, I've revamped the story and its grittier and darker. I promise though that it will be interesting. Once again, review!__


	3. Chapter 2: The End of the Beginning, the...

I'm sorry everyone that I haven't updated for a long time. I kept trashing the chapter so I took a break. But here it is. I modified chapter 1 a bit, but it was only in regards to her relationship with her dad. As promise, some of the generals have made their appearance. Enjoy and review.

CHAPTER II: THE BEGINNING OF THE END, THE END OF THE BEGINNING

Faint rays of sunlight peeked through the window and into Makoto's closed lids. She shifted in the bed, not wanting to awaken but the light proved more persistent. She rolled off the bed, her chestnut curls tumbling at her shoulders, slightly groggy. Her bleary glanced at the clock situated besides her bed, as it blinked 6:30 AM. A groan escaped her lips, an annoying voice in her head telling her that it was her first day of school. She trudged off to her bath with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm, the shower squeaking open as the sound of running water was heard. Minutes later, the sound of water slowed to a trickle and out she came, damp but now wide awake. She quickly dressed up and fixed her tousled bed, her stomach rumbling. She burst out into the hallway, greeted by the scents of pancakes and bacons wafting through the air. The rumblings of her stomach increased as she followed the mouthwatering scent. 

                "Good morning," she greeted cheerfully when she reached the dining room. 

                "Good morning," her foster parents greeted her back. Her uncle and aunt, as what she called them, looking up from their respective sections of the morning newspaper. 

                "You're quite an early riser," Ikuko observed with a smile as she watched her pile up some pancakes, "And not much of a big eater," an amused tone in her voice.

                She looked up in surprise and confusion as she replied, "I'm not that early, and people have said I'm a big eater."

                "It's your size dear," her new mother spoke, "and it's not that big compared to Usagi or Shingo."

                She nodded in understanding, her mind taking her back last night at diner, wherein she sat there gaping as she watched the two sibling literally eat a mountain of food that was largely disproportionate with their size. 

                Ikuko smiled knowingly, knowing pretty much what was going on in her head. Calmly, she continued, "As for the rest, they're pretty much the laziest kids there is," as she stole a sideward glance to her relaxing husband and added slyly, "I wonder where they got it though?"

                Coffee spluttered on the newspaper and on the table, as Tsukino Kenji, husband of Ikuko choked on his drink. He glared balefully at his wife as he demanded, "Are you implying that I'm lazy?"

                She stared at him innocently and spoke in an equally matching voice with appropriate hand gestures, "No, no. But since you mentioned it. . ." her voice trailed off as she contrived to look thoughtful.

                He frowned irritably, humped, then returned his attention to the stained paper as she smiled winningly at him. Makoto couldn't help giggle at the scene as she grabbed a wet rag and began wiping the spilled coffee. 

                "Uh. . .Auntie," she ventured out as she wiped the last drops of coffee.

                "Yes?" Ikuko looked at her with a smile as she took the rag from her hands and gently ordered, "You finish you meal."

                "I was wondering if I could continue my aikido lessons," she spoke in a soft voice, shifting uncomfortably. She wondered how they would take it, knowing very little about what was expected of her, except that her real aunt couldn't have cared less and that all her classmates were male.

                "Ah!" the older woman exclaimed, causing her eyes to snap up curiously, "Ms. Ikuwasa told us about it. Don't worry," she spoke reassuringly, "I'll talk to a friend of mine about it."

                A grateful smile erupted at face, her mind becoming at ease. It sounded strange, but ever since she was young, she always felt the need to learn how to fight in order to protect. She wasn't sure who, but she knew she will know when the time comes. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the shuffling of feet and the scrapping of the chair besides her. Her eyes snapped to reality to behold a still sleepy but uniformed Shingo who was brightening up at the sight of the food. She watched as he piled food at his plate and was currently munching away, having banished the last vestiges of sleep.

                 "It good to see that my new neechan isn't a lazy pig," he spoke between mouthfuls of food. 

                Makoto couldn't help but raise her brows up at the irony of his statement, noting the condition he was in, while Ikuko frowned, admonishing, "Shingo, don't talk with you mouth full and don't talk about your sister like that!"

                "But it's true," he whined, "Look at the time."

                Her eyes snapped towards the clock and her mouth dropped open, seeing that it was 10 minutes after 7. Horror dawned in her eyes as she winced at the thought about being late at the first day of school and going home late because of detention.

                "I better wake her up," she muttered hastily leaving the table.

                "Good luck!" Shingo called behind her as she quickly climbed up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. She faintly heard Shingo being scolded but she ignored it, as she yanked open the door and found herself staring at a contentedly sleeping Usagi.

                "Usagi," she called out, shaking the sleeping girl. 

                Nothing happened. She called her name out louder, shaking her a bit more. All it did was make her roll up to her side and mumble in her sleep. She shook even harder, called even louder, but Usagi remained fast asleep. She groaned out loud, seeing as precious seconds tick by. At her wits ends, she grabbed the edges of the blanket and yanked hard. Out the came the sleeping girl, sliding down to the floor and jerking awake. She nearly cried with relief, but her relief was short lived when the newly awakened blond spoke groggily, "What?"

                She felt a nagging headache begin to form as she spoke as calmly as possible, emphasizing every word, "It's 7:15."

                "7:15!" Usagi shrieked out, making her wince in pain, "I'm going to be LATE!"

                The next thing she knew, she was being pushed out of the room, the door being slammed on her face. She blinked in shock as she heard muttered curses and a couple of thumps. A few seconds later, the door was opened and the blond girl zoomed out, grabbing her by the hand as she was dragged down the corridor, down the stairs, and into the dining room. The rest passed by into a blur, a part of her in shock while another was simply amused as she watched her new sister break land speed records with her hot on her sister's heels.

                Cherry blossoms swirled down on the air, slowly and gently. Makoto watched it, a placid smile on her lips as she sat underneath it, waiting for her sister. School had already ended, so she was out here, waiting. 

Her eyes turned amused as she remembered their record breaking sprint to school. She was glad that they weren't late, glad that she wasn't in the same class as her sister. She didn't know why. It wasn't that she didn't like her; on the contrary, she loved her. Loved her with so much conviction that she felt she would never disrupt her life, only watch from a distance to protect her as best as she could. She was glad that she would not impose herself on her life, her routines, and her friends at school. She knew, she could only watch. Her heart told her that much.

Her hand rose up in the air, extending a finger as one light pink petal laid upon to rest on it. She watched, entranced, just as she was entranced by the nature and its violence as well as gentleness. She watched and listened as the trees gave her comfort and the flowers sang her songs by the whispers of the wind. She watched and listened as the wind howled, lightning rumbled, and thunder crashed. They, telling her that she must be strong, and that she had to learn how to fight in order to protect.

"Makoto!" a cheerful voice cried out, breaking her thoughts. She looked up and found Usagi running towards her. She stood up, a smile in her lips as the blond screeched to a halt, gasping for breath.

"You're late," she spoke teasingly. She saw her the innocent features, causing her to hastily add, "Never mind," her voice light, for she did not want her hurt, ever, "It doesn't matter."

"Still," Usagi spoke, a sincere expression in her wonderfully blue eyes, "I'm sorry."

She smiled, grateful and heartened as she extend her hand in a beckoning manner and spoke, "Come on. I'll race you home."

She watched as Usagi brightened as they took off running. She found herself lagging a bit behind, careful to watch the blond girl, and careful that she would not be hurt. Her footsteps were light, her feet flying at the wind, yet she did nothing but stayed behind. The wind whispered it was right that she did so, and the trees rustled their approval as she protected and guarded. She did not mind, her heart and soul had said that so she must. 

                Mamoru ran across the streets in a deathly hurry. School has just been done and the day was wonderful, you would think he was simply excited in hanging out and having fun. But there was another thing that was causing this awful hurry, and it was that he was going to visit his little sister in the hospital. She had given him and grandfather a scare last night, and she had left the doctors baffled as well. He didn't know what was waiting for him, yet he ran with every speed he could muster, while evoking a prayer to whatever the gods that were up there. 

It wasn't that he believed in gods. He never believed in them, not after the incident that killed his parents and left him no memory of his childhood. But with his sister in danger, he knew he'll need every help that he could get. 

He reached the hospital without incident, slightly out of breath. He entered the place, his nose wrinkling at the sterile smell of antiseptics. He had to admit, he hated hospitals with its cold sterility and how it always invoked the feeling of death, but he knew he cannot avoid this place. He walked towards the reception desk, clearing his throat to gain the attendant's attention.

"Excuse me," he spoke as he ran his hand down his wind tousled hair, "I'm here to visit Rei Hino."

"Are you a relative?" the man asked as his hands busily typed across the computer keyboard.

"I'm her foster brother, Chiba Mamoru," he answered automatically, fairly itching to see her.

"Could you wait a minute," the attendant asked as he grabbed the intercom. 

He felt nervousness well up, his mind rapidly creating worse case scenarios as he watched the man conferring at the receiver. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but fear and good manners kept him back. Perhaps it was because his feelings showed that when it was finished, he was given a sympathetic look as the man spoke, "Don't worry. Dr. Mizuno just wants to talk to you."

He felt a palpable sense of relief, but it wasn't enough to ease his fears. He waited impatiently, tapping his foot on the ground while he valiantly tried to quell his overactive imagination.

"Mr. Chiba," a feminine voice broke through his preoccupation. He looked up and found herself staring at a woman, dressed in a white coat, with gentle looking eyes, holding a clipboard.

"Dr. Mizuno?" he inquired in a rush, allowing a mixture of trepidation, hope, and a tad of impatience to color his tone. 

"It's about your sister," the doctor spoke without preamble, her eyes giving away nothing.

"What about her?" he demanded searchingly, trying to find any clue as to what it is.

"Come with me," she spoke, turning about as he hastily followed her, "She's fine and awake, and will be released today," she continued, her movements brisk and professional. He felt elated at the news, but it did not last long when he heard the rest, "But we're still not sure about the cause of the seizure."

"You don't know anything?" he asked incredulously, noting that they had gone deeper into the building.

"Unfortunately yes," she admitted ruefully, "The only thing we know is that there was a subtle shift in her brain wave patterns and an increase in brain activity, every time she underwent a seizure," a hint of amazement in her voice, "As for her bodily functions, nothing was affected. She's as fit as a fiddle. I wouldn't have believed it if I haven't seen her convulsing."

He nodded, his agile mind storing in the details while his heart was in turmoil. He did not know what to feel, relief that she was all right, dread that everyone was powerless, and sadness because a part of him seemed to whisper that things will never be the same.

_'Destiny,' his mind whispered, __'You cannot fight destiny.'_

"We're here," she spoke, breaking through his inner turmoil. His eyes focused and he realized they had entered the intensive care ward. He looked at the doctor curiously, wondering why Rei was placed here. She answered immediately, instinctively knowing what he wanted to know, "She gave us quite a scare last night," she spoke, opening the door, "We had to monitor her almost constantly."

He nodded in understanding, following her inside, and was greeted by the sight of his little sister who was lost in thought. She seemed not to hear their entry as she gazed outside the windows and into the falling cherry blossoms.

"Rei," Dr. Mizuno spoke, causing her to turn away from the window, "How are you?"

"Fine," she replied, her gaze shifting from the doctor to the silent presence of Mamoru. She lowered her eyes, guilt and shame coursing through her veins at the sight of his disappointed look. The room was noticeably tensed, yet Dr. Mizuno seemed blind to it as she calmly gave out instructions. She vaguely heard the words: rest, can go back to school, and no strenuous activities, but she didn't listen or care. She even didn't care when the doctor left them, and they both left all alone. All she cared about was the disappointed and almost hurt look in her brother's eyes. She wished he just scowled at her, even ranted and raved, for she could handle that. What she couldn't handle was the way he looked at her now. It was as if he was blaming himself for her stupidity.

"Are you going to do something that stupid again?" Mamoru's calm voice shot through her mind.

She looked up, eyes wide with surprise and guilt. She bowed her head and slowly shook it into an approximation of a no. His features softened as he saw her guilt ridden features. Walking towards her, he sat down besides her, gently took her hand, and spoke, "Why did you do that?"

She looked up, violet eyes meeting his and replied in a soft voice, "I wanted to help you, and. . ." her voice trailed off before she continued doggedly, yet her voice was even softer, "and. . .I. . .felt I had to," she sighed at lost for words. Then she cried out, "I just had TO!"

_'Destiny,' the words once again echoed in his mind, __'You cannot fight destiny.'_

He suddenly felt tried and haunted. His sister's words and his mind's words telling him there was no escape. Although escape from what, he did not know. 

"The vision must have been terrible," he murmured at last, his hand giving hers a comforting squeeze.

Rei's violet eyes turned wild, banking with hidden fires as she cried out, "That's what I'm afraid of, oniichan. I don't remember," her eyes turned frightened and her voice hushed as she continued, "All I remember were three hooded men in scarlet robes, like they were from a cult. Faces that were featureless black masks in eyes like red slits, and the word, destiny."

He said nothing, the words confirming his dread.

A whoosh in the air, the squeak of the bars broke through the silence of the room. There was no movement or any sound as the room's occupants simply stood and stared. They were staring at the blue haired 12 year old gymnast by the name of Ami Mizuno who was whirled at the uneven bars with breathtaking speed and agility. She seemed like waltzing and flying through the air with all those twists, turns, and swings.

                She was oblivious to it all, intent only on her routine. Her day had been what she called exhausting. It wasn't because of all the schoolwork or the tests. It was because she felt a call, a call telling her that she must be strong. It was this call that rang in her head all day, the call that forced her to think of nothing else but to excel, and it was the call that pushed her body and mind to its limits. This call was the reason why she ran all the way to the gym to get to the uneven bars. It was because of it that she was now pushing herself to the limit and pushing the sport to the limit as well. She had heeded the call as the twisted her body in the air, caught herself and launched herself even higher, never breaking pace. She was now like water, flowing and gentle, sharp and strong but brittle. 

                Her mind flowed, calculating every move and every whim that surrounded her. A final twirl, she let go of the bars and twisted in the air to fall back to the earth with a flourish. 

                "Excellent," a deep base voice spoke, causing her to snap back to reality. She found herself looking at a burly man with green eyes who stared at her with pride, while behind him, a group of people were either excitedly talking or staring at her resentfully. She frowned, noting the people in the room. She was used to it, the way people seemed to resent her, yet it made her feel lonely at times. She also realized that she had forgotten about her audience, the call having nearly obliterated everything. 

                He watched a frown cross his face. Smilingly, he observed, "Not satisfied? You should be. You were excellent."

                "No," she answered, her eyes snapping back to the present, "I was thinking about something else. . .But then," she added, shrugging, "I don't think I'll ever be satisfied."

                "How about competing or joining the club?" he asked, his gaze sharpening, wondering if she'll turn his offer down again.

                "Never, I suppose," she replied, the words belaying the conviction within her as she turned towards her things. 

                "Never is such an absolute, Ami," he chided as he watched her grab a towel to mop the sweat that dotted her brow.

"Everything is usually determined by absolutes, Coach Simons," she said, causing a light chuckle to escape his lips. She looked at him with curiously, her brows furrowing as he got a hold of himself. 

"Did I say something wrong?" she asked, a hint of hurt in her voice.

He looked at her fondly, knowing how she hated been laughed upon for all the whispers that had been stabbed at her back. She hid it with her shyness, and a single minded determination in everything that she did.  Hastily, he explained, "I'm sorry Ami. It's just that I was thinking how my nephew would have reacted."

She said nothing, tilting her head curiously as he continued, "He would have disagreed. His philosophy is that everything is determined by oneself."

"That's a little conceited," she observed, "There are limitations and they determine our lives."

"Ami," he said with a sigh, "I'm not here to wax philosophies with you," his gaze turned mock thoughtful in a want to tease her as he added, "Though I must admit, you're right about the conceited part."

She blinked in surprise as he ignored her reaction, still speaking in the same thoughtful manner, "In fact, I think I should introduce you both to each other."

She gulped, her features twisting into a wince as she heard his idea. An intellectual discussion sounded nice, yet a discussion with someone full of himself, let alone a man, was simply not appealing. Hastily, she interjected, "I'd rather not."

She froze when the words left her lips. She felt herself heat with embarrassment when she received a curious yet amused look from her coach. In fact, she simply wanted the floor to swallow her whole. She gave a strained smile, while a part of her was ready to kick herself with her stupidity. But to her surprise, he laughed as he spoke, "Good choice. Last time I check, Zachary was pretty much a heartbreaker."

Her surprised mind, numbly absorb the information, making a mental note to avoid anyone with the name of Zachary. 

"But don't worry," he added cheerfully, "my conceited nephew, Zachary Greene, is on the other side of the globe."

"I hope he stays there," she muttered, before even realizing it. Her eyes widen in horror and surprise. Coach Simons simply laughed, much to her chagrin, as she wondered why the sudden animosity to a man she never met. Her traitorous mind never answered her, giving her only a set of mocking leaf green eyes that seemed vaguely familiar. 

"Is everything ready?"

                The bloody red haired woman jerked away from the window, the raspy voice of a woman's interrupting her reverie. She looked up, her bloody red eyes meeting the cold void of the other woman's eyes. They were nearly the exact opposite of one another. Both were slim and pale, but she was tall with hair and eyes a brilliant shade of crimson, while the other was petite with eyes and hair like ebony.

                "Metallia," she acknowledged, her was voice clear and cool. 

                Silence reigned as the petite pale women studied her. The air was heavy with tension. The door yawned to a close behind Metallia, the wind swishing past the room. Her voluminous crimson robes rippled around her as she walked deeper inside. Their eyes never left each other.

                "There is something else," Metallia observed, it more of a statement than a question.

                She did not answer, yet she looked away. Her hand unconsciously went towards her black clad arm, stroking it lightly. She was deep in thought and deep in fury. The rhythmic stroking increasing in speed and pressure as she felt the familiar sting that haunted her for so long.

                "Beryl," Metallia prodded.

                "I feel her," she muttered, her eyes blazing, "I so want to kill her! Make her suffer and beg for mercy!"

                An elegant eyebrow rose. Metallia stared studiously; the meaning of 'her' was not lost.

                "Have patience," Metallia admonished, "Whether you like it or not, she is still dangerous."

                "Yes, but I can never forgive her," she hissed, her mind whirling with old memories as the sting of an old wound in her arm intensified, "How dare SHE?!"          

_'Demon,' she thought those words as words hissed out from her lips._

                "Come now Beryl," Metallia spoke in a soothing voice, "Surely you remember that day she bathed the soil with the blood of our troops with a single flick of her wrist. Just that one woman against hundreds of us. We had to destroy a planet to make sure she was dead."

                "WE DID THAT TO ALL THE SENSHI!" she bellowed as she drew herself to full height, her pale skin showing starkly against her revealing skin tight black gown, "SHE HAS TO PAY!"

                "Am I interrupting something here?" a slightly sarcastic voice broke though the air. Both woman whirled at the source and found themselves staring at an exquisitely dressed blond man. 

                "ADONIS!" Beryl snarled angrily, her eyes flashing as he sauntered in almost mockingly, "Get OUT!"

                "Why should I?" Adonis taunted.

                "Because you're a bungling IDIOT!" she shot back, rage literally filling every pore in her body, "Because of you, the humans have discovered us!"

                "They're nothing but trash," he waved dismissively, "Just like you, hag."

                Beryl snarled, her hands curving like claws as she bared her teeth in sheer fury. Adonis' lips curved to an even more mocking smile as he seemed to ready himself for her onslaught. But before the situation could escalate, Metallia roared, "ENOUGH!" effectively stopping the two combatants.

                "Adonis," Metallia continued, her piercing stare boring into his, "get ready. I don't want any slip-ups; we have to eliminate the human resistance and senshi threat as soon as possible."

                He smirked and gave a mocking bow, before turning with a flourish. The two women watched as he left, still as they listened to his footsteps receded to nothing more than a whisper.

                "Why do you keep that fool?" Beryl spat out.

                "He has his uses," Metallia answered, an amused looked flickering in her features as she glanced at the still seething woman, "Don't worry, you'll still be able to have your revenge personally. Knowing him, he won't be able to kill her," she assured as her voice trailed off with a smirk dancing on her lips.

                Artemis watched lazily as Minako brushed her hair for the last time. A rush of pride filled her as he stared at her, noting that even at such a young age, she was beautiful. The chime of the grandfather's clock echoed, startling both of them and causing his charge to run out of the room. Curious, he followed the hurried white clad figure down the stairs and towards a huge oak door, slipping inside easily as she entered.

                "You're 5 minutes late, Minako," a man's voice rang in his ears, serious and gentle yet distant at the same time.

                He looked up and found himself in an old-fashioned study, staring at a seated middle aged man. The man had a weary face topped with neat graying hair and with the same bright blue eyes as Minako. 

                "I apologize, father." 

                He was pleased when her answer confirmed his suspicions, yet he couldn't help but wince at the formality of the address. He stole a glance at Minako, wondering at her serene and unreadable features that were sparkling with an indefinable emotion.

                "Come nearer, let me see you," Ambassador Aino spoke as she immediately complied.

                Artemis silently observed the ambassador calmly scrutinizing his daughter who stood as still as a placid lake in winter. He saw the man's eyes soften a little as he spoke, "You present went."

                "Thank you, father."

                He stared at the father and daughter at disbelief. He just could not believe this yet an older part of his mind berated him. It reminded him that this was a common situation in the silver millennium and that he has become too spoiled with the views of this era.

                "Do you still remember my stories on demons?" Ambassador Aino's voice broke through his musings.

                "Yes," Minako answered simply.

                The ambassador smiled, a touch of pride in it, as his eyes softened a bit more. He kneeled in front of his daughter, grasping her white gloved hands and squeezing gently.

                "That's a good girl."

                Artemis wondered at the scene in front of him. There was suddenly a heavy solemn atmosphere that pervaded in the room. He felt like he was intruding on something personal, for no matter how formal their addresses were, an indefinable emotion hung between the two. It seemed as if there were many layers of the conversation that he could not and would never understand.

                A stab of jealously twinge his heart, but he quashed it ruthlessly. He knew he did not anymore have the right to see himself as her only father.

                _'After all,' he thought, _'you weren't with her for twelve years.'__

                He continued watching both father and daughter. The former kneeling down in front of the latter the stood as both masks slipped for a tiny instant and the grip of their hands tightened. 

                A 16 year old man with coppery blond hair desperately tried to stifle a yawn. A nagging irritation ran through his mind as he scowled at the milling crowds of well-dressed lords and ladies.

_'Rich snobs and rabid politicians with their equally rabid sons and daughters,' his mind added sourly as the mantra, __'I had this!' rolled on and on his head._

He was not in the best of moods, his day having gone from bad to worse. Here he was at some stuck-up party that had no relevance to himself whatsoever, while he had a ton of assignments waiting to be done. And if his day could be worse, he was stuck in a horrendous penguin suit known as the white tie and tails while some bratty female was trying to get his attention.

                "Could this day get any better?" he asked sarcastically as he pointedly ignored the girl's advances.

                "I don't think so Zach," a male voice answered him. He slanted a look to his side and found himself staring at a towering 17 year old man with silvery blond hair who cut a swat through the throng. It was his stepbrother.

                "Easy for you to say, Kenneth," he retorted, annoyance lacing in his voice. He always envied the unwavering calm and control of his elder brother, yet there were times that it simply irritated him. In a way, he simply wanted a person to share in his misery, which he never got with him.

                "Aren't you a little bit irritated?!" he whined ever so slightly.

                "I don't have time for that," Kenneth answered with a touch of amusement, "Stewing won't get me anywhere."

                He glowed at the implication in the statement, but kept his mouth shut. There were moments when his brother took the word, elder, a little too far. It earned him quite a lot of nicknames, not that he cared. This moment seemed like one of them as he thought sourly, _'Here goes the commander.'_

_                "I also understand the importance of these get-togethers," Kenneth added calmly._

                "I still have a LOT to do." 

                "So do I," his always unflappable brother replied, "But that's not the point, you haven't been sleeping well," his tone making it clear that it was no use fooling him.

                "How do you know?!" he choked out, totally surprised that he's been caught. He had always been careful not to wake anyone up, whenever he jerked awake in the middle of the night. It wasn't because of his ego, much as people and he would like to think. It was more of a part of him was telling him to be strong.

                _'Be strong for me, your prince, and. . .her,' a husky feminine voice whispered in his mind, the voice in his dream._

                "Because I've been having dreams as well," his brother spoke in a matter of fact tone.

                He turned to stare at Kenneth in his surprise. Green eyes met silver and he simply knew that they dreamt about one and the same thing.

                "Do you know who she was?" he asked, his mind remembering the phantom woman. In a mind's eye, he saw her slim willowy form draped in a white robe shining against her tan skin as brown as the soil of the earth. Her ocean colored eyes shone with tears as her arms were spread wide in welcome or in suffering and her forest colored hair whipped around her like a blanket.

                "No," Kenneth answered, his eyes and voice thoughtful, "But she seemed so familiar."

                '_Be strong for me, your prince, and. . .her,' her voice once again echoed in their minds, a voice like a queen, a mother, a sister, and a lover. _

                "I know," he murmured, lost again in thought that he did not notice the newly arrived guests and his stepfather's motions to greet them.

                Kenneth watched his younger brother loose himself in his own little world. He sighed and grabbed the other's arm in order to prevent the wrath of their father from falling upon them. 

"Get a grip, Zach," he hissed at his brother's ear, causing the latter to blink at him in confusion.

He tilted his head meaningfully at his father who had the beginnings of a frown curving his lips. Zachary swallowed nervously at the sight as he shrugged off his grip and nervously fixed his suit. Kenneth said nothing as he purposely strode towards his waiting father and stepmother, Zachary trailing behind.

"Kenneth, Zachary," his father spoke motioning to the group in front of him, "I would like you to meet Ambassador Aino and his family. Ambassador Aino, this is my son, Kenneth Marcus and my stepson, Zachary Greene."

He greeted respectfully while besides him, his brother echoed his sentiments. He couldn't help but note the grim seriousness that wrapped around the Ambassador, chilling him, and the predatory beauty of his wife, much to his disgust. But what truly riveted his attention was the slight 12 year old girl besides them. She wasn't looking at them, her face tilted at the side, staring at some distant point in the crowd.

He stared at her dazedly as images began to assail him. Images of the same golden haired woman staring pensively at a calm and listless silver sea. She looked lost and forlorn yet cold and remote, like an angel who sadly watched from above the sins of mortals.

                "Princess," he greeted her in a voice not wholly of his own. It was a voice that sounded deeper and older, laced with the iciness and remoteness of death. He wondered why he sounded that way, but thought not of it when she turned his way. She literally took his breath away, even his dream persona grudgingly admitting to her beauty.

                "King-general," she replied in a cool formal voice, the small hint of vulnerability he saw all gone, "I trust your stay was pleasant?"

                "It was," he replied, a part of him studying her form and unconsciously wishing to see the angel that seemed much more human than the one who was facing him now, "I thank you for the hospitality."

                "No, I should thank you," she replied as she turned away to once again stare at the sea, "I have never seen the Princess so happy, until now."

                "It was the Prince who made her happy, not us," he reminded her gently, wondering why he felt the need to comfort this woman, this stranger. Good sense told him to leave, yet he could not. The instincts that flared when she was around, obliterated everything. He could have wondered if this was a trick or some spell, yet he recoiled at the idea of her being treacherous. 

                She never responded as she continued to stare at the horizon. Suddenly, she spun around and grabbed his hand. It startled him and he found himself staring a her light blue eyes. He felt entranced and his gray eyes remained locked with her. He realized what he was doing and he pulled back but she would not let him hand go. He was not sure what to do when his gaze flickered to his hand and hers and found himself staring at a full bloomed white lily.

                "Princess," he spoke in a puzzled tone as he met her eyes, "I do not. . ."

                "I am giving you this," she interrupted him, her voice hushed, "to remind you that once something has reached the zenith of its perfection and beauty, death is sure to come."

                His eyes widened at her words when he felt the gentle pressure of her hand disappear. He stared at her in stupefaction as she hastily backed away with her eyes ever so slightly wide. She turned away and disappeared when he realized with a pang that she herself was shocked by her actions and was frightened that he saw a chink in her armor. He wished she had not fled, his heart ached for her and her words and his body still tingled with her touch. He could still feel her and her soft smooth delicate hand, could still smell her scent that mimicked a white lily so well, and could still see her every feature heightened to an excruciating degree. It was here that he realized he loved her.

                _'Venus,' the battle hardened warrior king within whispered in his mind.___

_                'Venus,' the young man, Kenneth Marcus, whispered dazedly as well. _

He saw her, the pensive angel draped in a gold Grecian gown. He saw her, the remote little girl in white. He saw her in the mind's eye, and knew.

Suddenly, he heard the dream's voice in his mind, as it screamed, _'Help me! HELP ME!' _in a hysterical pitch. The image shattered in his mind and he was left with the unreality of blistering heat and the acrid smell of panic and charred flesh as the world exploded around them. 

                A faint sense of unease fluttered around Minako. That nagging feeling had appeared ever since she met Artemis and had intensified as another day rolled by. But what really set her at the edge was the actions of her father. She still remembered his weary and solemn eyes, his intense grip and the warmth of his hands that seeped through her gloves.

                _'Why are like this, father?' she wondered__, 'Why are you bringing up those stories?'_

She remembered clearly her father's stories. They were about demons, how they were and how to defeat them. They were such strange stories, made even stranger by his actions. He usually talked to her during tea time, his grave and intense voice speaking against the rays of the midday sun or the dimming sunlight. It always felt like a lesson, yet they were fond memories to her.

_'Not unlike mother,' she whispered to herself._

She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she never realized that they were already inside the ballroom. She was only jolted away from her thoughts when she felt a familiar aura. Her eyes scanned the crowd, not caring if she seemed rude or the consequences. An urgency demanded she find the source as her eyes swept pass the faceless people to lay on a pair of hauntingly familiar somber garnet eyes.

"Pluto," she whispered ever so softly. 

"Ambassador Aino," the garnet eyed woman greeted with a respectful smile.

"Setsuna," her father greeted back and then motioned towards their host, "Lord Marcus, this is my trusted aide de camp, Meiou Setsuna. Setsuna, this is Lord Marcus, the head of SAS."

She watched with such intensity as they exchanged pleasantries. She was certain Setsuna is Pluto. There was proof enough when their eyes met, when she saw her looking exactly like what she remembered and when that ageless voice whispered to her mind. It was time, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

Then, another familiar aura assailed her. But all she felt was anger and disgust. She knew it so well, the feeling that slimly aura evoked. It was something she could never forget or forgive.

_'Adonis!__ You traitorous bastard!' she inwardly seethed as she saw a silver haired man saunter arrogantly towards them. She vaguely heard her father introduce him as Adam, another trusted aide._

_'Trusted aide my foot!' she snarled in her mind, __'Since when could that self-serving lecherous viper be trusted?'_

Their eyes met, but refused to give him any satisfaction as she kept her features as cool and as remote as ever. It felt like eternity as his lips curved into a smirk. The next thing she knew, a cold chill struck her and the world exploded around her.

                Everything was like a blur to her. Minako couldn't seem to remember anything except for the sound of screams, explosions, shattering glass, the deafening stampede, and manic laughter that echoed in her stunned mind. She remembered feeling fragile yet strong arms grabbing her and she was slammed into the ground as an intense pain blossomed in her side. The force bruised her back and shoulders as her ears then registered the tinkling sound of shattering glass and her skin felt the sharp edges sliced through, drawing blood.

                She blinked, her vision and mind clearing. She was back to present, and what greeted her eyes was the sight of devastation. All around her was slick dried blood and blackened soot as men and women rushed to save the screaming injured. 

                "Minako. . ." a thready whisper reached her ears. Her head whipped to the side to see her father laid in a stretcher, injured and weak. She crawled towards him, beyond caring about how she look, beyond caring how the sharp stones and grass drew more of her blood. All she cared about was reaching her father.

                "I'm here," she whispered, her voice steady yet it wavered at the last note. She grasped his hand, her grip slightly desperate for she could see he was fast fading away.

                "My stories were true," he spoke weakly, "You're my heir so you have to continue what I've started. Setsuna and Adam will help you."

She could only nod dumbly as he tried to give her one last smile. She felt her grip slackening as she saw him valiantly tried to touch her face, speaking, "I wanted to protect you forever. . ."

His voice trailed off as his hands fell limply. Minako could only watch as his eyes closed for the last time. She felt a hand rest on her shoulder and she reached out to it, grasping it like a lifeline. She knew it was Setsuna's.

"Your mother was killed as well, I'm sorry, but there is much to tell," she heard her say, but she ignored it.

_'I won't cry,' she thought to herself__, 'I won't cry,' the words rolled again and again in her mind as her bright blue eyes were filled with tears and none fell._

_'I swear, you will all pay.'___


	4. Chapter 3: Ascension

Thank you so much for the reviews! I'm sorry this is late, I've been bogged down with my studies. Just some clarifications, since the last part was said to be a bit confusing. In that part, the place where the party was, the house of Lord Marcus, was attacked. Setsuna saved Minako, but with all the shock and confusion, nothing registered much to Minako. Later when the situation was controlled, meaning the attackers (Adonis and his minions) disappeared, Minako sees her father dying. Her father tells her, the stories of demons that he had been telling her since she was small were all true and that she is his heir. Now as to what I mean by that, well this chapter will explain it. So read, review and ask me anything else if you're confused.

*This is a Minako centric episode. The rest of the inners won't play a part here. The next chapter will deal with them.

CHAPTER III: ASCENSION

Tick tock…

                …Tick tock…

                                …Tick tock.

                The pendulum inside the wooden shell continued it incessant rhythm. The huge room was strangely silent, except for the incessant drone of an ancient clock. Besides it was an equally huge window draped and covered by heavy brocade. The pale afternoon sunlight creep in whatever pane that was not covered by the stifling cloth, it highlighted a huge room that was as cool and as impersonal as a tomb.

                Amidst the haunting stillness sat Minako as she stared at her pale reflection in the mirror. Endless blue eyes stared back at her on a face framed by long golden hair twisted elegantly. Her hands fisted at her lap as she continued to stare. Everything felt so wrong to her yet her cool expressionless features carved into an aristocratic hauteur of white marble revealed none of her thoughts, even if underneath the cool facade laid a warm soul brimming with passion. 

                To see her as a leader of an organization that protected the world against darkness was to see a forgery of an adult. And yet, there was no other path she could take. 

                She fisted her hands even tighter, not caring if she felt the half-moon crescents of her nails dug into tender flesh. 

Her image looked back at her. A form incased with a delicate white blouse buttoned right up the throat, pinned with a medallion with its ruffled cravat. Hugging her waist was the black band of her shirt which swirled delicately down to the floor. A fine lace shawl completed the effect as it lay draped at her shoulders.

She looked beautiful, every inch an elegant lady. It would have made her mother's eyes sparkle in approval. Her mother would have been adorned in a similar style. It was very much proper in her situation. And yet, she could not stand it.

_'I am Minako Aino,' _she whispered to herself, _'Heir to Ambassador Aino with the knighthood given by the Queen of __England__ and his rank as peer of the realm and leader of the esteemed Section 13 as per orders of the UN.'_

She had to be careful with this meeting. She had made a promise to her father upon his death. Never mind that all the pieces fell into place a few days ago. She had made a promise and a pact.

_'Three days ago. They died three days ago and I have no time to mourn. It seems as if I had aged a lifetime in one unguarded moment.'_

She was an adult now. It didn't matter she was only 12 years old or that the remaining Knights of the Round Table have come to assess her readiness to take the mantle of responsibility.

_'Responsibility I never asked and yet am infinitely bound to,'_ she thought sadly, remembering the words she swore in that hellish night.

Yet, everything felt so unbearable to her. The layers of conservative clothes seemed to weigh down on her. 

_'This is pathetic,'_ she thought to herself, to this delicate woman in the glass blinking back. She looked so womanly beautiful, so untouchable. It was as though one glimpse of evil would reduce her to cliché tears like some damsel in distress in those fairytales. 

'_It is fine for the light within those silly dreams, but this is reality. A reality that will always be tinged in shadows,'_ she thought to herself, _'I am NOT a hapless maiden.' _

The silence was suddenly shattered by the faint whoosh of the doors. She did nothing as she simply watched wordlessly the image reflected in the mirror of Setsuna slowly entering the room followed by a white cat. 

"Setsuna. Artemis," she greeted them solemnly.

"You look pretty," Artemis spoke.

She felt herself flinch at those words. She knew Artemis meant well, yet those words seemed to twist at her soul. 

"You'll fetch pretty penny at the toy store," Setsuna's almost mocking voice followed coupled by Artemis' outraged call.

 She said nothing, knowing the truth in those words. But it cut, so much that the sting felt unbearable. What looked back at her, glossed as the prefect lady and her mantle of leadership, was a fraud. It wasn't her, just some dressed up doll. 

She had worn dresses nearly all her life because she had been a child, a student. She was her father's little girl and the culmination of her ambitious mother's hope and dreams. But it was no longer that. She was no longer those things. Her parents were both gone now and all she had left was a promise that she would take her father's place. She had to be a leader now. All this dressed up, dolled up attire was nothing. It was meant to make her look the part of a proper aristocratic young lady, sitting gracefully and lady-like upon the seat of power. She had been told to wear this because it was what was said to be expected of her. But she wasn't a young lady simply handed the title of power, she had to be a warrior amongst an army.

"What do you see when you look at me?" she asked as she turned to face Setsuna with clear unblinking blue eyes.

"What do you want?" Setsuna asked, a cool look grazing her features.

"The truth."

Setsuna smiled as she replied thoughtfully yet bluntly, "I see a child, playing dress-up."

Another indignant snap followed the statement and yet both females ignored it. Two eyes stared back at each other, one in cool blues and the other in fiery blood red, one coming from a girl and another from a woman. 

"Thank you," Minako at last spoke in a near whisper, breaking the silence.

"We better go now," Setsuna spoke as a reply, "They're here." 

She said nothing anymore and simply stood to leave. Her gaze brushed the blue orbs of her cat companion as a sign of thanks before the wooden door shut ominously behind her. Her eyes closed for a brief instant, the sounds of movement reaching her ears.

"Come," she heard Setsuna beckon, causing her eyes to snap open. She watched the woman's retreating back and the calm unhurried stride that she presented, before she followed her wordlessly across the hall lined with massive portraits. 

She ignored them, knowing these images of long dead men and women meant nothing to her. It was a relic of the manor's previous owner, before her father was given it and before she inherited it. But one grabbed her attention. She couldn't help but see it. It was a painting of the huge manor with its oppressive gothic elements. The sight of it seemed to weigh down her. The sheer size of the picture became a painful reminder.

Her gaze had turned inward. Flashes of memories were haunting her, memories of two days ago…

It felt so surreal, the ride across London and towards the city's outskirts. It was all under the gloom of silence and the pitter patter of rain as she sat besides the window, never looking anywhere except her hands. She still was haunted by that night, the night her parents died and the night her world turned upside down. It just happened yesterday and here she was riding across the city streets to fulfill her promise.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she never noticed that the car stopped or Setsuna, her companion, get out until she felt the cool sting of the rain. 

"Ms. Aino," Roberts, the chauffer called gently as he stood there holding the door open for her and holding an umbrella.

She murmured her thanks as she stepped out, the gravel strewn path crunching beneath her shoes. 

Her eyes widened with surprised at the sight of the structure before her. It was huge, an ancient pile with its hodgepodge of styles. It brought no comfort or admiration to her, only a sense of oppressiveness made even more by the pouring rain.

The door shut gently behind her and she slowly followed the retreating figure of Setsuna into the place. 

Every step felt heavy, forced even. Not even her entry into the house or the dash of familiar faces of her father's staff brought warmth into her chilled soul. She barely remembered seeing the miles and miles of hallways and the only thing that struck her was the study. It looked so much like the study she knew her father used in the ambassadorial residence. They were nearly identical down to the scent of spicy cologne that lingered. The only difference was the sheer size of the room and the lines of bookshelves with its books.

"Sit down," she heard a man's voice speak. It was oily, slick like velvet and it made her skin crawl. Her gaze focused at the center of the room and she couldn't help but feel a flash of fury at the sight that greeted her. She found Adam, the traitor she knew before as Adonis, Languidly sitting on her father's chair with her father's desk. She savagely controlled her disgust and with an almost aristocratic hauteur, seated herself. 

"Well Ms. Aino," Adam ever so slightly drawled, "What are you going to do?"

"Do what my father wishes," she answered simply, her voice admirably steady and cool while inwardly she seethed. 

He stared at her piercing for a minute before leaning forward earnestly as he spoke, "Do you understand what your getting to?" in a cajoling manner.

"Perfectly," she replied, "My father did tell me everything, even if they were under the guise of his stories. And he did leave me everything I needed."

"But surely you are young!" he exclaimed. He sounded so false to her, the concern of his voice or the grandiose manner in which he moved.

"I assure you," she spoke, unable to contain the frigid tone in her voice, "that age doesn't have to do with anything."

He stared at her for an instant, a thoughtful look at his face as he walked towards her. She never flinched nor attempted to stand. She knew she must not show any fear as she calmly steeled herself.

"You don't like me," he said, more of a statement than a question.

"You are at my father's chair and a day hasn't passed since his death."

He laughed, the study bursting with his chuckles as he threw his head backward. She knew he was well aware he looked handsome. Every movement of his was after all calculated to gain admiration and to throw the observer under his spell, but not her, never her.

"Of course," he said at last while still trying to contain his chuckles, "My sincerest apologies, Ms Aino," as he bowed to grasped her hand and raise it to his lips.

Their eyes met and she snatched it away before her could press her lips at her hand. Coolly, she spoke, "If you may, I would like to be alone."

He grinned, seemingly unperturbed by her manner as he straightened up and fixed to leave while saying, "Very well then.  The other knights know of your father's wish, they will come to test you two days from now. Good day, Ms. Aino," he greeted and the door clicked shut.

She remained seated, listening to the faint sound of footsteps growing softer and softer by each step. When blessed silence wrapped around the room, another voice shattered it.

"Was it wise?" she heard Setsuna speak behind her.

She wasn't surprised, fully aware of the silent observer in the little confrontation a minute ago. She didn't answer, yet Setsuna was unconcerned as she continued, "It would not be wise to make him an enemy. He is your guardian after all and your ascension is still shaky at best."

Silence. Setsuna's lips twitched at her reaction, or her lack of it.

"Section 13, after all…"

"Section 13 always had only one mission since its birth 7 years ago by the hands of my father," she suddenly spoke, cutting off whatever Setsuna was to say, "It is the extermination of those who have forsaken their humanity and those that made them, those monsters beneath humanity."

_'Just like him,' _her mind whispered like a promise.

"No exceptions?"

"No exceptions," she answered as she stood up to gaze by the window. She felt the woman's gaze boring at her back, yet she ignored it, just as she ignored the soft muffled thread of feet towards her. 

"Even…"

She whirled around, well aware of the underlying meaning beneath those words. Her eyes turned stormy as an acknowledgement of everything that had happened so far.

"Don't mock me!"

Setsuna remained expressionless against her outburst, yet her eyes gleamed with something akin to triumph and amusement. Nothing was said and she was left all alone as Setsuna also turned to go. But not before she placed a silver pistol at the desk with an audible click and said, "Keep this with you at all times. Your father made it for you."

She said nothing, her gaze drawn to the gleaming weapon against the dark warmth of the wood.

…A faint sound of a clearing throat reached her ears, bringing her back to reality. She was now at the end of the hall and huge wooden doors loomed in front of her with Adam besides them. She imperceptibly straightened herself and stepped in, fully aware at the smirk dancing on the man's lips and Setsuna following silently behind her.

                The grandfather's clock rang ominously. It was already 3 in the afternoon.

                                …Bong…

                …bong…

…bong.

                 "Why do you keep on insisting he is still of use," an exasperated Beryl muttered, stretched upon a chaise.  She was a picture of languidness; too much that she did not turn to face Metallia but simply muttered her complaint against the window of nothingness. 

                "He did complete his mission," came the amused reply.

                "And he," Beryl snorted in disgust, "failed to kill her."

                A slight smirk danced on Metallia's lips, the meaning of 'her' was not lost to her. She knew it had been one obsession of her companion for so long that even she did not know for how long. It seemed almost like an eternity, that burning hatred that consumed Beryl like the fires of hell. She walked towards the window and stood besides the lying figure. She flickered at glance, noting the thin ruby red lips that were twisted into a scowl. 

                "Did you really want her to go off easy?" she murmured in a seeming distraction yet it was filled with sly undertones.

                The words stung to Beryl. It was like a sharp bite of a hissing viper that disappeared as quickly as it came.     She stood up quickly in anger. Her body was like a tightly coiled spring as she towered over the virtually unconcerned figure of Metallia and spat out, "Are you…"

                "Of course not," Metallia replied in a soothing tone as she interrupted the blooming tirade, "You have to have patience. You wouldn't want her to die ignorant of the pains of losing everything."

                Slowly, Beryl's anger evaporated with those words. She then returned to her original position, although a frown decorated her painted lips.

                "Don't worry," Metallia assured her, the coldness of void in her eyes disconcerting against the gleaming promise in her voice, "We'll destroy her little by little and Adonis…will lay the first chip."

He saw her again in his dreams. He always saw her, that ocean eyes woman with her forest green hair and sleek chocolate colored skin. He remembered when he first saw her, when his parents laid dead at his feet and when a man with graying blond hair and bright blue eyes took him in out of kindness. It was night, in his dreams as he lay huddled in the warmth of a bed of a seminarian house. She appeared to him then and every night after that with pictures of another woman with laughing emerald eyes. She would usually smile her sad smile, ask him questions, but most of the time, watch with him these pictures of the laughing emerald eyed woman. She was always in his dreams, but never like this. This is the first time she visited his daydreams.

"Nephrite," the tanned woman greeted him gently.

"I hate it when you call me that," he muttered, his brow furrowing, "I'm Nathan, Nathan Bernad. You have never called me by my name," he said mournfully.

"I'm sorry," she replied with a smile, "I just like it better."

He gave a slight sigh. He was used to this exchange of theirs, how he would always insist she use his name yet she never did. A companionable silence blanketed them. 

"What do the stars say?" she spoke suddenly, her smile turning pensive.

He stared at her, his chocolate colored eyes showing his confusion at her question. He knew he told her about his gift, yet she never brought it up until now.

_'Until now,' _he thought, _'Why is it that everything happens now?'_

He felt it strange and yet, he answered truthfully, "Vengeance."

"I see," she spoke ever so softly as she looked up against the imaginary forest they were in.

"Why…"

"They disapprove of it, right?" she spoke, interrupting him as her hair whipped as she turned to pin him with the intensity of her gaze.

He nodded dumbly in shock. His answer caused her to smile brilliantly, furthering his bewilderment. Her smile softened at the sight of his expression. Gently, she spoke, reaching out to him as she started to disappear. The forest blurred with her. Her mouth moved yet he couldn't seem to hear her. They seemed to say, "I'm sorry."

_'You better go back now,' _he heard her whisper in his mind, and before he could say anything, he found himself once again back to reality. He blinked, forcing his vision and mind to clear as he shook his head.

"Anything the matter, Nathan?" a gentle voice reached his ears.

He glanced beside himself, his eyes meeting a kindly old cardinal who he saw as his foster father give him a curious slight smile.

"Nothing, Cardinal Dante" he replied, his tone slightly evasive, "I just got lost in my thoughts." 

"I see," the man replied in a knowing tone yet it held no rebuke, only acceptance that caused guilt to twitch his heart, "You better steel yourself then. Here she comes."

                He looked at the door, following the gaze of the bishop and everyone else in the room, the remaining 10 men who fairly radiated confidence and arrogance in their power and influence. His jaw dropped when he saw her enter. He was so surprised. It was unexpected. He knew that the Japanese Ambassador, Sir Aino's daughter was young, but he never expected her to look so young or so fragile. He shifted uneasily in his seat, watching as the inquisition began. He couldn't help but pity her. A part of him could not help but see a young girl that would break at a moment's instance. He would have preferred if they would slay the dragons for her. They were men, and it would be such a shame to soil her delicate hands.

                Yet even as he thought those things, he knew he cannot afford it. Nobody in this room can, for there was too much at stake.

                _'I'm sure you understand the danger and the urgency of the situation,' _Cardinal Dante's voice echoed in his mind. It was the words his foster father spoke when he said aloud his doubts, _'We have to make sure her father's blood truly flows from her veins.'_

                He let the message echo repeatedly in his head. He told himself he couldn't pity her. He knew so well what was at stake. He could still remember the events of 7 years ago, when he was a young child of 10. He could still see the bloodied, hacked bodies of his parents as they lay dead on the cobblestone streets of Rome. He could still smell the gagging stench of blood that permeated the air as he stared in shock while a monstrous cloaked figure stalked towards him, claws flashing for the kill. He remembered how he waited for his death and how it never came. The steady stream of gunshots still echoing in his ears as the figure rained blood and turned to dust. 

                But what he truly could never forget was the sight of a blond man with bright blue eyes holding a smoking pistol while an empty cartridge lay at his feet, and a cardinal running to a stop towards the man. It was the night he first met Ambassador Aino and Cardinal Dante. It was the night he discovered of a newly found world of demons and monsters. It was the night he found a new life.

                An immense explosion rang, yet it failed to rock the immense manor that had stood for centuries. 

                Setsuna watched dispassionately as confusion and even fear ran across most of the room's occupants. She saw them staring the huge windows to see the smoking husks of their cars and the mutilated bodies of their guards. 

But what truly garnered her attention was the sight of Minako who had remained seated throughout everything. She wasn't a picture of calm yet, she was still too young. Yet her stiff form radiated determination and courage as her hand steadily closed around the gleaming black pistol that lay in front of her. 

Setsuna watched with such intensity that she did not even flinch when the doors slammed open or when an inhuman man sauntered in with his contingent of demons. She never reacted unlike the others who drowned the rooms with their demands or cries of hopelessness. What caused a reaction, a smile to twitch her lips, was the sight of Minako immediately standing up and whirling about as she held the pistol in her hands. The sound of two gunshots rang as it hit the leader right at the heart and at the forehead, causing him to disintegrate into a pile of sand.

Silence.

Setsuna's smile widened into a smirk.

                Two gunshots echoed ominously inside the room. It broke through the melee of sounds, leaving behind stunned silence. Everyone stared at the figure of Ambassador Aino's daughter who was the source of the shots. Her hands were surprising steady at the weapon.

                "What a woman she would make," the Cardinal murmured softly. His voice was filled with admiration, and it was the sentiment echoed as well by Lord Marcus while the other knights simply stared in a multitude of emotions.

                Everyone watched as she immediately aimed the gun at Adam, one of the aide de camps of the deceased Sir Aino.

                "Call them off," Minako spoke, her voice laced with ice. It was an unusual; sound to hear from one as young as her, yet as she stood there in her unwavering stance, it fitted her well.

                Adam did not answer, but instead calmly met her gaze. The air in the room was tense with anticipation and confusion as the two combatants engaged in a contest of wills. Then for what seemed like an eternity, he laughed. 

                It was a strange sound to hear against the death and destruction and the circle of savage demons, yet it held nearly everyone at its spell.

                "You never trusted me, didn't you," he spoke. It was more of a statement than a question as ironic amusement still tinged his voice, "You had me followed, and I would presume Setsuna did the job. Or was it some else?" he asked, his tone taking a tone of an innuendo.

                "Call them off," Minako spoke, ignoring the question as she enunciated every word. Her aim never wavered as her eyes narrowed, her fingers tightening at the trigger as she continued, "Adonis." 

                A stunned air followed her statement, all eyes were on them, yet Adam simply grinned. He looked unconcerned in his arrogance, triumphant even.

                "I applaud your spy's vigilance," he spoke, his voice tinged with mockery, "He's very thorough," then his grin turned savage, "But what will that do for you?" he murmured as a cry of surprise rent through the air. 

                It was one of the demons that suddenly sprung up and held the Cardinal by the throat with a clawed hand as the other was poised to tear the man's body to shreds. The rest of the occupants stood frozen in uncertainty and palpable fear. 

                Minako's finger tightened even more at the trigger as she kept her gaze steady at the overconfident man in front of her. She refused to drop her guard and look at the sight the cry brought.

                "Well Ms. Aino, what are you going to do?" he mocked with the exact same words he spoke to her days ago, the sinister edge now truly clear in his tone.

                Silence.

                "Choices, choices, choices," Adam continued his mockery, his voice was a whisper yet it rang clearly across the room, "How will you choose? Can you even choose?" he asked, his voice turning sly.

                He watched in an almost sadistic glee as Minako's jaw tightened or that some of the knights look close to praying and begging. His eyes gleamed as he continued his scorn, "Do you want me to choose for you? In fact I'm sure you'd like it."

                No response. His grin turned into a knowing smirk as he murmured, "Let's see."

                What happened next was seemingly like a blur to nearly everyone. It was a morass of events, piled up one after another in rapid succession. It was like rapid fire snapshots of pictures. To nearly every, all they could see were flashes.

Claws moved to a kill as it descended towards the unflinching hostage. The sound of gunshots immediately followed, coming from Minako who shifted her aim slightly. Bullets zoom past, hitting precisely. Blood splattered in an orgy of violence as the Cardinal crashed to the ground wheezing. With incredible speed, Adam rushed towards Minako who immediately shifted her aim to him. It was all too late. He was too fast, too inhuman. The full windows shattered as the shots turn wild. Blood poured and pandemonium erupted. Glass rained down in a delicate and deadly dance, sending everyone down to their knees with their hands covering their faces as much as they can. Too many sounds echoed amidst the ruin of the grand room. A final crash, then silence.

"SHE'S ESCAPED!"

                Nathan cringed as he attempted to cover himself from the raining glass. Crawling across the ruin strewn form, he cautiously reached his foster father who laid nearest to the shattering windows.      

                "Father Dante," he whispered urgently, he was so worried that he unknowing returned the fond titles he used to call the Cardinal in his youth, "Are you all right?"

He saw the man nod and gave him a comforting smile as both of them continued to stoop against the sights and sounds of destruction. But much to his surprise, just as sudden as the violence started did it suddenly end as well. He raised his head cautiously and cringed when a sheer undulated cry of rage echoed all around.

"SHE"S ESCAPED!" Adam, the cause of it all, roared. 

Oddly, the roar was followed by a husky mocking feminine laugh that caught everyone's attention. Nathan couldn't help but stare in shock and confusion as he stared at the other aide de camp, Setsuna, who was laughing with such gusto that she was all but lost in her sardonic merriment. 

"WHAT do you think you're doing?!" Adam practically growled, the first word he spoke was a force to reckon in itself.

Nathan felt like he was watching a surreal play as the laughter abruptly stop yet the sardonic amusement remained as the tanned woman turned to face the raging traitor. There was a sarcastic smirk in her lips as she replied, "Shouldn't you be asking that yourself?"

The question hung in the air as she fearlessly walked towards Adam who seemed ready to explode.

"After all," Setsuna whispered slyly when she was just right in front of him, "an incompetent traitor such as you wouldn't stand a chance if you continue to dally."

Everyone gaped at her in surprise at the nerve she displayed while Adam snarled angrily. With the sheer power of his rage, he sent both of them at the wall, slamming Setsuna painfully at the ancient stone. It brought winces to everyone watching, yet she seemed unconcerned and unaffected as she continued to watch Adam with the same sarcastic smile.

"Well?" Setsuna queried in a bored tone, absolutely undaunted by the fact that she was pinned to the wall by a raging man who could kill her or have her killed in a second. 

Both combatants stared unblinkingly at each other, one amused and the other in rage. A few seconds passed, although it seemed like an eternity to Nathan, Adam suddenly released Setsuna in a huff and stalked away. His voice rang with a promise as she spoke, "If we don't capture her in half an hour, you'll all die, but you're going be the first to die a painful death, Setsuna!" as he snarled her name.

The door shut ominously behind him and his minions as the sound of the lock being bolted was heard. Uneasiness reigned in everyone's mind and Nathan couldn't help but be drawn to Setsuna. He saw a smirk dance at her features as she spoke, "Heh? Do you think that's going to be easy Adonis? I'll give you 10 minutes and let's see whose going to return."

He stared at her in trepidation, every fiber of his being told him he wouldn't like to see what is to come.

                Setsuna watched with amusement as one of the knights paced incessantly back and forth across the room, drawing annoyed and nervous looks from the rest. The steady rhythm and crunch of footsteps was a steady drone and to nearly everyone, it signaled the passage of time, amplifying their dread.  But for her, she felt none of the dread and in its place was glee. To her, it had been so long since she had something akin to this entertaining. It was an unpredictable moment, an event teetering at the brink of a thousand possibilities. 

                She was Pluto, an immortal being that personified death and time. Death, because she brought death to anyone she wished to and held that void's power within her that even death itself could never claim her. Time, because as an immortal being, time was meaningless to her. She was beyond its effects and could bend it to almost every possible whim of hers. Contrary to popular belief, she did not guard time. Time was beyond guarding. But to her, ever single moment in time was a cause for an effect later in the future which will become another cause and another. Yet now was one of this rare moments that she cherished. This is one of the moments that even she was not certain of the future, not even a second of it for a multitude of different possibilities are flashing in her eyes. 

                "We have to do something!" the formerly pacing knight cried out in frustration, bringing Setsuna out of her thoughts. She looked at the scene unfolding in front of her with interest as she leaned back more comfortably against the wall. 

                "We're going to die!" the man continued, his Russian accent getting thicker in his agitation, "That girl, if she's wise would never be found so easily. Time's ticking, we'll all be killed."

                Murmurs of agreement rose but it quickly died out when the British representative, Lord Marcus spoke, "Be reasonable. Eleven men, a boy and a woman are no match for monsters. We don't even have any weapons."

                "I rather do something than simply cower, waiting for my death," the Russian shot back.

                "I agree," another man seconded. It was the American representative.

                Slowly, the room was abuzz with disagreements. Setsuna said nothing as she continued to observe them, yet the novelty of the event was beginning to disappear in her opinion. Her mind began to wander as she shut off the arguing voices. 

                Suddenly, something tugged on her awareness which quickly blossomed into movie screen. At first, she was fascinated and then triumphant as she watched the scene unfolded in her mind. The numerous possibilities have now slammed shut and only one remained. She felt herself smirk as she projected herself going down into one bended knee. _'Your orders?' her thoughts whispered even if there was no reply._

                "Enough," Cardinal Dante's voice arrested her attention as the images faded from her head. Her vision focused as she watched the Vatican's representative literally drew everyone's attention and silence.

                "Have faith," he continued, "The Dame Aino," he said, his words making his opinion very clear, "is her father's daughter, and she has proven minutes ago that his blood flows thickly in her veins."

                Setsuna's smirk turned wider when she heard those words. Softly, she whispered to herself, "Dante, you won't be disappointed."

                Suddenly, the door was flung open. Standing in the middle of the huge entrance was a wounded Minako whose left sleeve was soaked in blood. Behind and besides her were the disappearing signs of the dead monsters

                There was shocked silence at the sight. Even though the Cardinal gave an impassioned plea of belief, it was not enough for them to believe a little girl capable of that. . But what was truly shocking was the sight of a seemingly delicate woman who stood and towered besides Minako. It was a woman with inky black hair and dark violet eyes whose death white skin was incased in a blackened violet gown and whose hand held a wicked glaive.

                "The sleeping witch," murmurs from the knights rose as the sight of the woman who grinned savagely at the thick fear that coated the air.

                "Saturn," Setsuna whispered as watched with a languid air of satisfaction, Minako heavily crossing the invisible line that determined the boundary between the room and the hall. Calmly, Minako raised her pistol and pointed it at the Russian representative.

                "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!" the man cried out.

                "Don't play dumb," Minako replied dully.

                The man's face contorted into a form of stubbornness as he opened his mouth to protest. Yet before he could speak, Minako savagely cut through his words.

                "Your friend, before I killed him, told everything," she spat out, her words dripping with anger and sarcasm, "Those golems that killed those guards where the men you brought!" she hissed angrily as she flung an undeniable proof to her words. It was a shard of crystal that everyone knew so well. It was the fine line that made a person a human or a golem brought about by their free will.

                The stone hit the floor, giving off a high pitch ring, jolting nearly everyone from the hypnotic path their gazes took as they followed the flung stone. 

                "Yes I did do it," the man admitted yet his voice took nothing but pride and a whole-hearted belief in his righteousness.

                Setsuna felt laconic amusement as the man took on defending his stance with such fervor against the icy remoteness that seemed to crystallize around Minako. She found it amusing, his train of thought on how he felt that the Knights of the Round Table and Section 13 would crumble under the hands of a young girl, how the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few or one, and how he was only using Adonis in order to find out the heart of their weakness and end this drudgery of a shadow war. When his speech ended, she felt a need to needle Minako so she spoke at last.

                "What are you going to do with him then?" she asked slyly.

                "You can't kill me," the traitor protested, "You're still a child!"

                Minako's features hardened as she raged back with such cold intensity, "I already stained my hands today! Another one won't matter."

                Setsuna watched as Minako's lips tightened a bit or that her hands wavered ever so slightly. No one seemed to notice it, except her sharp eyes and she took delight in it.

                "I think we should bring him to the court of law," a male's voice heavy with a French accent answered the question.

                "I suppose," Minako murmured back.

                An almost palpable sense of relief enveloped the Russian. He babbled on his relief as his hand slowly inched towards the inside of his suit in a gesture reminiscent of release. 

Minako's blue eyes narrowed and she continued to speak against the babble, her voice turning stern, "But his crime is beyond the human court of law…"

As she finished her words, the man had pulled out a pistol from his jacket and depressed the trigger. Yet she was quicker, shooting him straight to the heart. The shot meant for her turns wild and grazes her cheek yet she doesn't even flinch as blood flows and soaks the white lace of her high-necked blouse. She simply looked on forward as she watched the man collapse into a heap.

Setsuna observed all of these events with a smirk. Her gaze never left Minako who continued to stare at the body of the man she killed. Silence was heavy in the air.

"Setsuna," she called out ever so softly, "The room is not suited any longer for the meeting. Please bring everyone to the conference room in the east wing."

"Of course," Setsuna murmured in assent, the smile still playing at her lips as she gave a half bow of respect and her eyes met the gleaming ones of  Saturn. 

Minako ignored it as she turned to go while the sound of approaching choppers and the screeching tires of armored trucks filled the air. 

                A silver haired man greeted Minako as she stepped out of the ruined room with its stunned occupants. She looked at him dully, for even she herself was stunned with her actions. She felt so dead yet the sight of the man seemed to lighten her a bit, even if there was nothing to smile about anymore. She supposed it was because the sight of him brought back those old memories of her, memories of another life and another father, a second father.

                _'Artemis,'_ he mind whispered, _'thank you,'_

                "I gave a distress call to Section 13's squads," the man spoke, "They're early. They were supposed to be out in a mission."

                She said nothing, as she drew a little bit of comfort from her nearness to her 'father', before she began to walk across the long stretch of the call to reach the arriving troops. She sensed him fall into a step besides her, before his soothing voice reached her ears, "I better transform back now."

                She stopped. Her body turned rigid at his words. She felt him looking at her in confusion but she ignored it. She did not deign to turn as she continued to stiffly stare forward into the expanse of the corridor.

                "No," she spoke, increasing his confusion, "You'll be the family's steward from now on."

                "And how will explain my sudden presence?" 

                "They won't," she assured him with such certainty, "You've been in my family for many years, long before I was born."

                She began to stride across the hall once again, nearly leaving a stunned and bewildered Artemis who then swiftly caught up. 

                "I don't understand," he murmured.

                "Use your mind suggestion techniques," she replied flatly, her expression cool, "I'll fill you up with the details later and I'll send Setsuna to put fake records in the government files."

                "But…" he protested when a sigh from Minako stopped him.

                She had stopped once again and her head was now slightly bowed. Slowly, she turned to face him yet she refused to meet his eyes.

                "Artemis," she spoke in such a soft voice with a hint of a plea, "you heard what one of them though about me. I can't afford another one like that. These men will need a figure besides me, a man like them who was old enough and has been in this organization ever since it was formed. .."

                She stopped speaking. Her voice trailed off, she couldn't continue on saying all the things she wanted to say. It was too much for her, right now, when all that is holding her together was sheer determination and an icy numbness.

                Artemis' eyes soften and his hands reached out to Minako's tightly fisted ones. Gently, he smoothen them out as he spoke, "I understand. Let's start with the troops."

                "Stand down," Minako spoke across the entrance as a flood of men rushed in, "The situation is under control." 

                Her expression remained cool as the blond haired man straightened up and looked at her at the eye with his piercing blue eyes. She felt surprise ripple across her, everything about the man was so familiar. It was too familiar.

                _'Uranus,'_ she heard Setsuna whisper with sly amusement in her mind. 

                She ignored it, earning her a laughter that slowly disappeared mockingly. She watched as the men slowly filed out and the man she knew once as Uranus remain.

                He was watching her appraisingly, yet she did not let it bother her. Cooly, she spoke, "Are you Captain Harold El Fadil, leader of Section 13's Hunt and Disposal unit?"

                "Aye!" he replied as he stiffened to attention, yet his eyes never left hers. Recognition gleamed in his eyes just as it sparkled in hers.

                "As I said," she spoke, her voice flat and expressionless as she returned his stare with an equally flat expression, "the situation has been brought under control. The traitors are dead," he voice took on a bitter quality, "It is Adam, Sir Aino's aide de camp, and Vladimir Kruskov, the Russian representative. All that is needed is a clean up. Artemis will lead your men to it."

                "He's been here for a long time then?" he asked, a dry knowing tinge in his voice.

                "Yes," she replied with an equally dry tone, "Artemis has been the family's steward long before I was born…"

                Her voice trailed off as she saw Harold's gaze shift to her right while a heavy choking presence intensified at the back of her brain. She knew what it meant as her eyes narrowed, yet she refused to acknowledge it or the savage disdain it alluded.

                "Captain Harold," her voice cracked like a whip, sending his gaze back at her, "You will have two new specialized agents. I'm sure you'll be able to accommodate them," she spoke, irony lacing her voice.

                "Two?" he asked, his gaze flickering once more to her right, "But I only see Saturn."

                "Saturn and Pluto," she replied blandly as she turned to leave, murmuring, "Artemis, you take care of the rest."

                She heard an equally murmured assent but a protest from the Captain stopped her. She twisted her head at the side, refusing to turn and face him as he spoke, "Do you realize how dangerous…"

                "I intend to make good use of them," she spoke, cutting him off as her voice brooked no opposition. She did not wait for a reply and continued on her way. Her gaze met Saturn's savage grin who was calmly lounging at the railing of the grand staircase. The grin widened into something akin to a Cheshire cat which she ignored. But she could not ignore her contemptuous whisper in her mind, _'Are you still going back to those battering codgers?'_

_                'I suggest you have a bit more respect,'_ she warned frostily, earning her a widening of that taunting smirk. 

                She refused to let it bother her as she swept past her and up the stairs, into the hall, yet the Cheshire cat grin remained embedded in her mind. Suddenly, she felt the stillness of the air at her back and a rustle of fabric as Saturn's mind once again spoke to hers, _'Of course, I'll even take a look. It's going to be interesting.'_

                Her eyes widened in realization as she whirled around, but all she saw was a fading black portal.

                Setsuna watched with extreme boredom as the arguments in the room reached an excruciating degree. The knights were split in their decision, yet even with the high emotions running around, the arguments hurled back and forth have become stale beneath their redundancy. She had to stifle a yawn as she heard over and over again the concern of how could they trust Saturn, the sleeping witch or the destroyer.

                _'Bored?'_ Saturn's teasing whisper echoed in her mind.

                _'These old codgers have nothing better to talk about,'_ was her dry reply.

                _'Why don't you show them you're Pluto? That will give them something to talk about.'_

_                'It's interesting,' _she replied with a smirk_, 'but you're forgetting Minako.'_

A light chuckle rang in her mind, before Saturn spoke_, 'Yes, it is going to be hard to do whatever we like…But you are right though, she is interesting.' _

                _'Have I ever been wrong?'_

Another laugh and Saturn replied, _'No, and she does promise to give us some more entertainment,' the last word spoken surreptitiously._

                _'Hunt and Disposal unit,'_ she murmured back in more of a statement than a question. She was distracted as felt a tingle of a nearing presence.

                _'The very same,'_ Saturn confirmed as a vision of her smiling savagely entered Setsuna's mind, _'Here she comes.'_

_                'I know,' _she replied.

                As the words were spoken, the doors opened and Minako entered, plunging the room into silence. Setsuna watched with renewed interest as everyone took their seats. All eyes were still at the bloodied 12 year old girl and tension was high in the air. It increased even more at the appearance of Saturn.

                Setsuna felt the beginnings of a smirk in her features as a few of the knights cried out and fear was thick in the sir, like butter.

                "Why did you release her?!" one of the knights suddenly gained a voice. It was the Japanese representative, Senator Hino, whose demand was followed by numerous murmured assents.

                _'Well you little cowards,'_ Setsuna thought, amused on how most of the so-called knights seemed to gain courage in numbers.

                "Her name is Saturn, and she is under the employ of Section 13," came Minako's dry reply.

                "Employ?! Section 13?!," Senator Hino demanded, his voice getting progressively louder.

"What would you prefer then?" Minako riposted, "Saturn serves my family? It's just the same."

Silence greeted the statement, the implications and the many meanings clearly hung in the air. 

"How sure are you then you could control her?" the senator broke the silence, his voice had lost its hysteria and was replaced by something calmer and more calculating.

Minako's eyes narrowed as Setsuna watched the wheels in the blonde's head literally turn.

"Saturn," Minako's voice cracked against the waiting silence. 

Setsuna watched avidly as Saturn calmly glided behind the seated feature of the girl. She wasn't sure what was to happen, but she could literally taste a good entertainment.

"Do you want to test your glaive?" Minako continued, her gaze steadily boring into the Japanese representative, "On Senator Hino's neck."

Cries of fear and protest erupted from nearly everyone's lips. Saturn's lips burst into a full fledged grin as she sprang forward with her glaive drawn towards the designated target. The Japanese senator had fallen backward to his chair, nearly cowering in fear.

"Stop," Minako's voice rang commandingly against the din as Saturn's glaive stopped an inch from the man's neck. Silence reigned yet the air was thick with many thoughts as everyone stared at the still seated statue of a girl.

"Senator Hino," she spoke flatly at the man who continued to breathe harshly against the steel poised at his neck. The man was glaring at her yet she didn't seem to mind as she continued, "if I didn't control her, you would be dead and so would everyone…Saturn," she called, her gaze never wavering, "you may withdraw."

Everyone watched as the glaive withdrew and its owner returned to its former position behind the blond girl. They were almost a strange image, a woman of darkness and a girl of light. 

"Well that settles it then," Lord Marcus spoke pleasantly, a sheer contrast to the uncomfortable tension, "Your knighting will be here 5 days from now, and a week from now, you'll have to fly to New York to receive your post from the UN Secretary General."

"Very well," she replied calmly, "Also, my father's funeral will be here, 3 days from now."

"Of course," Lord Marcus replied as he stood up, followed by everyone, "We'll all attend. Good day, Dame Aino."

                Artemis calmly entered the conference room in the east wing after having led the knights out of the manor and into their rides. He was surprised to find Minako still seated, staring at nothing in particular. There was something about the air around her that stopped him from calling out her name.

                "Artemis," she suddenly spoke with her back facing him, "inform my school. Tell me I'll be dropping out."

                He was surprised and shocked even, but he said nothing.

                "Also," she continued, "contact the proper authorities. I'm applying to be home schooled."

                "If the request is rejected?" he asked, worry was clouding his mind at the listlessness of her demeanor.

                "It won't. This is just a formality," was her weary reply.

                 He wanted to comfort her, yet he knew it was too late. She was beyond comforting, truly far gone underneath the weight of her duty. He had never felt so helpless, but helpless he was, and the only thing he could do was these little things to lighten her load.

                "Is there anything else then?" he asked, forcing his voice to remain pleasant and soothing.

                "Go to my father's closet," she answered in the same voice and manner, "His suits, have suits like that made for me and also pairs of white gloves and black pillbox hats. I'll also need a wire framed glasses, silver please." 

He listened attentively, a dawning horror in him as her voice progressively got softer with each word.

"How many will I have made?" he asked cautiously.

"They're going to be my whole wardrobe."

"Your other clothes?" he asked, fighting to keep the dawning pain in his voice.

"Burn them."

He stared at her, pained. He was pained for her and for himself. He still could remember the smiling bright child she was at the early days of her youth in the silver millennium, and how it was lost during the crushing weight and weariness of duty. And now, even that weary girl who could still smile during the silver millennium was gone as well, replaced by an iron statue molded by destiny brought by age beget and lost in blood.

Okay, 3rd chapters finished. This is my longest ever. As you can see, the senshi here won't have any transformation sequences or lines. I really don't like that and I think it's going to clash with the whole feel of the story. Also, both Pluto and Saturn have an extremely different role in the silver millennium, seen by the way they treated Minako and Uranus' reactions of them. The silver millennium won't be all that rosy, it's an empire which means a lot. Don't worry, its all going to be revealed slowly, I promise. Also, Uranus in this story, both in the present and past, is a guy.

If there are anymore questions just ask. I'll be very happy to answer it. Reviews are very much appreciated as well. Good or bad, I don't care. But I would really really appreciate constructive criticism. Thank you again for those who reviewed, I hope you enjoy this. 


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